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Pewee” Clinton, Plebe 


BOOK EVERT MAN SHOULD READ AND 
PLACE IN THE HANDS OF HIS SON."—N. Y. Sun. 

A Short History of the 
United States Navy 

By CAPTAIN GEORGE R. CLARK, U.S.N. 
PROF. WM. O. STEVENS, Ph.D., 
INSTRUCTOR CARROLL S. ALDEN, Ph.D., 
INSTRUCTOR HERMAN F. KRAFFT, Ph.D., 
of the Department of Engli(h,U. S. Naval Academy. 

“ Here at last is a book over the 
reading of which all real Americans 
should thrill with honest pride.” 

— Portland Oregonian, 

With i 6 full-page illustrations and many 
pictures in the text. Large i2mo. 

Cloth f $3-00 neU 


J. B. Lippincott Company 

Publishers Philadelphia 






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Page 5k 


“Pewee” Clinton, 
Plebe 

A Story of Annapolis 

By 

WILLIAM O. STEVENS 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

HERBERT PULLINGER 



PHILADELPHIA & LONDON 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

1912 





COPTRIOHT, 1912, BT J. B. LrPPINCOTT COMPANT 


PUBLISHED, OCTOBER, I9I2 


PRINTED BT J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS 
PHILADELPHIA, U.8.A. 




gCi.A3a7501 

A. 4 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Receipt op Orders 9 

II. The First Day in the Academy 29 

III. “Getting on to the Ropes” 50 

IV. Dick Spikes His Hat 62 

V. A Company Rough-house 77 

VI. An Enemy and a Friend 93 

VII. On the Buoy 112 

VIII. The Army Game 131 

IX. An, Introduction to Society 159 

X. Plebe Christmas 176 

XI. The Mathematics Examination 191 

XII. Coventry and the Pewee 209 

XIII. ZiM Plans a Feast 225 

XIV. An Unwelcome Arrival 240 

XV. The Plebe Coxswain 253 

XVI. The Race With Columbia 268 

XVII. The Bilger Bilges 286 

XVIII. June Week 298 



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ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

So He was Hauled Aboard by the Aid of a 
B o ATHOOK Frontispiece 

“Speaking of Squirts,” Chirped Dick, as He 
Aimed the Torrent Squarely into Wentworth’s 
Solar Plexus 84 

Wentworth was the Hero of the Day 156 

“Any Man who Puts Mah Friend Clinton in 
Coventry Kin Put Me Thar Too” 219 ^ 

To Make that Finish Dick Made His Men Pull 
with Every Ounce of Power in Them 281 





“Pewee” Clinton, Plebe 


I 

RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


‘‘Hullo, Dick, here^s what you’ve been 
waitin’ for, I guess!” called the postman, 
waving a long, brown envelope marked ‘ ‘ Offi- 
cial Business,” and the lad he was speaking 
to jumped from the doorstep like a hot pop- 
corn and seized the letter with the greatest 
excitement. 

“Hooray! it’s my orders, come at last! — 
You’re right,” he added to the postman as he 
put the envelope in his breast pocket with 
sudden dignity. “I must report at Annapo- 
lis right away.” Then, forgetting his official 
importance, he bounced into the housQ 
shouting; 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘Oh, Aunties, the orders have come! Stop, 
look, and listen!’’ 

He could scarcely wait for the two aunts to 
drop their housekeeping duties in different 
parts of the house and come fluttering about 
him before he began declaiming: 


Sir: 


U. S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, Md., 
September 16, 19 — 


You are hereby ordered to report to the Superintendent 
of the United States Naval Academy not later than the 
20th instant. 


nespectfully, 

Jas, H. Dickinson, Lieutenwnt, U.S.I^. 

By order of the Superintendent. 


Richard C. Clinton, 

Skowhegan, Maine. 


“Deary me,” sighed the younger of the 
two elderly ladies as she looked sadly at her 
nephew, ‘ ‘ I don ’t feel glad at all. You ’ll have 
to go now, Dicky boy ! ’ ’ 

“Yes,” assented the other, with a shake of 
the head, “but our bird must leave the nest 
some time.” 


10 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


“Aw, say,’^ expostulated the boy with a 
shame-faced laugh, “I’m no Dicky bird, be- 
lieve met Shucks, you two said something 
like that when I went into long pauts last 
spring!” 

He braced back his shoulders and glanced 
at the mirror at the other end of the room. 
“You forget, ladies, that I’m a naval officer 
now. Avast! Port your helium!” And he 
waved an imaginary cutlass. Whereupon the 
two aunts had to laugh in spite of themselves, 
and they bustled away quite cheerfully to get 
the boy’s outfit ready. 

Dick himself dived out through the door 
and raced down the street to tell the good 
news to Mr. Hanson, the High School prin- 
cipal, who had helped him so much in prepar- 
ing for the entrance examinations ; and also, 
for that matter, to all of his acquaintances 
that he came across on the way. In fact, the 
entire town had been interested in the boy’s 
success in passing the examinations at An- 
napolis and winning the appointment the pre- 
11 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

vious June. There had been some hitch in 
the matter of his reporting at the Academy, 
and the fact had been subject for considerable 
gossip at the post-office and the sewing circles. 
Now that the orders had actually come, after 
the lad had waited for them all summer, there 
was a pleasant little flutter of excitement. 
There were times in Skowhegan when there 
was very little news. 

Dick found everybody very congratulatory, 
from the High School principal — who slapped 
him on the back — to the janitor’s dog — the 
school mascot — who caught Dick’s high 
spirits and barked round his legs as excitedly 
as if he knew all about it. After a long and 
cordial chat with Mr. Hanson, Dick decided 
that he ought to tell his Uncle Tom, but some- 
how he did not feel so enthusiastic about that 
errand. 

“He’ll kid me somehow. I’ll bet anything!” 
he said to himself as he walked through the 
familiar school grounds, mentally comparing 
the moth-eaten little patch of ground with the 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


velvety acres of the Naval Academy Yard. 
He had to admit, after a little reflection, that 
he was a bit afraid of Uncle Tom. He walked 
sedately along Main Street to his uncle ’s law 
olflces, trying not to look too conscious of the 
news that was still bubbling up in him. Of 
course the story had already traveled faster 
than Dick’s legs, and several of the people 
he met stopped him to wish him the best of 
luck in his new career. 

The boy had to wait a few minutes till his 
uncle had finished some business with a client, 
during which he told the ofiice boy the news. 
That young gentleman burst out with a 
‘‘Gosh, but you must be smart!” of honest 
admiration. “I wisht a feller like me 
could ” he began wistfully. 

Just then the door opened, letting out the 
client. 

“Hullo, Dick!” called a hearty voice. 
“ Come in!” Dick marched in, conscious of 
the pathetically admiring gaze of the office 
boy. 


13 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


“Ha — ^ha! The orders have come, have 
theyT’ 

“Why how did you know, sir?’’ answered 
the nephew rather taken aback at having the 
news guessed “right off the bat.” 

“Nothing else could make you strut like 
that!” laughed Uncle Tom. “Fine. The 
sooner you get there, the better. Ever since 
you got that appointment you’ve been a 
Prominent Citizen, and it’s a bad thing to be 
a Prominent Citizen all summer. But unless 
the Naval Academy is run on a mollycoddle 
basis nowadays, you won’t be a P. C. very 
long after you get there. Not for awhile! 
Eh?” 

“Well, Uncle Tom, you’re something of a 
Prominent Citizen yourself!” retorted Dick 
feebly. He hated that word mollycoddle. 
Somehow he could never get into conversation 
with Uncle Tom without running into that 
word. The latter chuckled for a moment as 
he watched his nephew’s face, and then he 

14 


RECEIPT, OF ORDERS 

jumped from Ms chair, and pulled down his 
hat. 

“Come on Dick, I^m going to lunch at your 
house to-day and see you get properly packed 
up. You’ll have to start to-morrow morning 
on the ten o’clock. I’ll work out the connec- 
tions for you through to Annapolis and send 
you a memorandum tMs evening. ’ ’ 

As they walked away. Uncle Tom continued 
to give his nephew practical points on the 
journey, for Dick had never traveled so far 
before, and went on advising him to scratch 
gravel as hard as he could, from the minute 
he arrived at the Academy, in order to make 
good. Dick didn’t listen very closely to all 
of this, for advice — and very prosaic advice at 
that — isn’t interesting compared with the vi- 
sions he had of himself in uniform, pacing the 
deck of a Dreadnought, saluted by the sailors, 
the admiration of the girls, perhaps some day 
winning a great battle and becoming the idol 
of the nation! 


15 


PE WEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Uncle Tom noticed the faraway look and 
laughed. ‘‘See here, boy, a lot of people I 
know are willing to pay me for my advice. 
Pull your head down from the clouds and 
take what you are getting for nothing! 
Hullo, Hester I ’ ’ he called to the elder of the 
aunts who stood beaming in the doorway, 
“I’m coming to lunch with you and the 
Young Farragut!” 

Hick continued to dream during the meal, 
and escaped as soon as he could to his little 
den on the third floor, where he could enjoy 
his excited anticipations and hopes without 
interruption. When the table was cleared. 
Uncle Tom announced that he was going to 
oversee the packing of Hick’s trunk. 

“It’s all done!” exclaimed Aunt Hester 
triumphantly. 

“We were afraid, brother, that you would 
say that!” added the other with a knowing 
shake of the head. 

“Never mind, girls,” answered the un- 
daunted Thomas, “I’m going to pack it my- 
16 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 

self if necessary.’^' And he threw off his coat 
with a flourish. 

‘^Oh, do he careful, Tom; there’s the trunk 
out in the hall. Just strap it up and be a 
dear.” 

‘‘Couldn’t be a dear, Hester, if I tried,” 
laughed the trouble-maker. “Look here, 
where’s that steamer trunk of mine that I 
sent over here for the boy? What are you 
doing with this?” 

“It couldn’t hold!” was the protesting re- 
ply from both sisters at once. Their brother 
threw open the lid of the big old-fashioned 
trunk with a flourish of disgust. 

“Look!” he cried, pointing to the fashion 
plates on the lining of the cover representing 
beautiful ladies in the styles of 1870, “what 
do you suppose the other middies would say 
when they saw that? They’d guy that poor 
kid into his grave. He’s going to get all he 
can stand as it is. What’s this?” he added, 
pulling out something that lay neatly folded 
on the top. 


17 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘It’s Dicky’s chamois-skin chest protec- 
tor,” explained Aunt Jennie, “you know it’s 
very damp where they live, right on Chesa- 
peake Bay ” 

The sentence ended in a plaintive “Oh-h, 
Tom!** as the protector was flung into the 
farthest corner of the room. 

“A dozen outing shirts!” snorted the irate 
Thomas diving into the trunk. “Mufflers! 
Ear tabs! Camphorated oil! A hot-water 
bottle ! ! ” At each exclamation the indignant 
man rooted out the article named and hurled 
it upon the growing pile in the corner. 

“What’s this? A diary! Good heavens, 
girls, why didn’t you throw in the parlor 
organ? More books! ‘Memoirs of Adoniram 
Judson’! ‘Daily Thoughts for Daily 
Needs’! ” 

“Stop, Thomas; he must have some good 
books in his room!” and Aunt Hester wrung 
her hands. 

“I’ve looked into the matter of that naval 
Academy, and I tell you regulations won’t 
18 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


allow it/’ replied the brother placidly, as he 
slung the books upon the pile in the corner. 
‘‘Nor pictures, either!” he added as he came 
upon “Napoleon at St. Helena” and “Farra- 
gut Lashed to the Rigging.” 

“But those are his favorite pictures!” 

“I tell you again, the regulations don’t per- 
mit one; take ’em away!” 

The good aunts were reduced almost to 
tears by their brother’s drastic overhauling, 
but he went calmly ahead, put all the outfit 
Dick needed into the smaller trunk, snapped it 
together and marched away to the office. 
Such was the authority of the masterful 
Thomas in that household that his sisters 
didn’t dream of meddling with the locked 
trunk. After an outpouring of indignation 
between themselves, they carried away the 
pile of offending articles in the comer and 
put them back in their original places. 

Dick stayed up in his den most of the after- 
noon, but he was on hand when the local even- 
ing paper arrived. Sure enough! There 
19 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


was a whole half column of flattering stuff 
about him. Of course a good deal had been 
reprinted from the article that came out in 
June when he won his appointment, but it 
said in conclusion that ‘^our popular and dis- 
tinguished young fellow-citizen will leave on 
the ten o ’clock train to-morrow, and doubtless 
he will be given a salvo of farewells and good 
wishes there by a host of his friends. ’ ’ 

wonder if they really will?” thought 
Dick, with an elation that he couldn’t help 
feeling. Uncle Tom needn’t think that he’s 
the only Prominent Citizen in this burg!” 

He was so excited and impatient to get 
started toward Annapolis that he hurt his two 
kind aunts, who had mothered him ever since 
his babyhood, by cutting his good-bys short 
and starting early for the train. Further- 
more he had asked them not to see him off at 
fhe station because he knew that they would 
spoil all his fun by crying. If there was to be 
a send-off, he wanted it to be cheerful. 

wonder if any of the High School crowd 


20 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


will really turn out to see me he said 
to himself as he started rapidly up the street 
with his suit-case. Sure enough, just as he 
turned the corner he saw a group of his class- 
mates waiting for him. They trooped noisily 
about him, laughing, joking, warning him not 
to get hazed, and all at the top of their lungs. 
It was a grand “jolly.’^ Dick felt like a 
crown prince, for he was the centre of it all, 
and though many of the fellows were joshing 
him as a ‘‘future Admiral’’ and giving him 
mock salutes, he knew that every one of them 
envied him. It was fine ! 

There was considerable time before the 
train pulled out, and with every minute came 
fresh arrivals, some out of pure curiosity, 
and others, who had known Dick ever since 
he was bom, had a kindly desire to wish him 
good luck. Among the later arrivals was Mr. 
Hanson, who shook his hand heartily and 
wished him the best possible success at 
Annapolis. 

“One of these days,” thought Dick, “I’ll 


21 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

be a Bear Admiral, and he ^11 be still teaching 
school probably.’’ He began to feel rather 
sorry for Mr. Hanson and for the rest of his 
fellow- townsmen as well, who were doomed 
to lead such quiet and obscure lives in this 
little Maine town. 

Then he noticed the reporter going round 
with a pencil stub in his fingers, and craning 
his neck in every direction to get names for 
the among those present” in his write-up of 
the occasion. Suddenly a slight commotion 
took place on the outskirts of the crowd and 
they moved back respectfully to make room 
for the Hon. William Tecumseh Sherman 
Larribee, Congressman from the district. 
The Hon. Mr. Larribee had been with con- 
siderable difficulty persuaded into giving 
Dick even an “alternate” appointment. He 
had given “principal” to young Foster, 
whose father was a lumber king; but Foster 
had failed dismally in the examinations, thus 
making way for Dick who had passed. Yet 
from the way the Congressman beamed on 
22 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


Dick as he came towards him with out- 
stretched hand, a bystander would have 
thought that he had picked out Dick for that 
appointment and Dick alone. 

Mr. Larribee would not have missed an 
occasion like this for worlds. It was still 
warm, unusually so for September, but he 
wore a heavy frock coat and a black felt hat. 
He cleared his throat resoundingly. 

^‘Friends and fellow townsmen he began, 
turning his back on Dick and facing the 
crowd. It was in the Congressman’s most 
oratorical tones and the fellows looked about 
furtively for comfortable places to rest, for 
they knew that a speech was forthcoming. 

‘‘It gives me great pleas-ure,” continued 
the Congressman, mounting a handy soap box 
and smiling graciously, “to add my humble 
treebute to the chorus of good wishes and high 
hopes offered here this morning to our dis- 
tinguished young fellow-citizen.” He waved 
a hand at Dick, who tried to look uncon- 
cerned, and the reporter scratched paper like 

23 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


mad to keep up. A few of the older members 
of the group, including Mr. Hanson, quietly 
went home. 

‘‘He goes to-day to don the uniform of the 
fin-est na-vee in — the — world, to add, perhaps, 
a glorious page under his own name to the 
peer-less record of that na-vee, ever in the 
cause of, and for the honor of, the g-r-randest 
nation on — the — face — of — the — globe ! ’ ’ 

Dick joined in the applause of this beauti- 
ful sentiment. “Pretty fine oratory I” he 
thought. “Oh shucks! There’s Uncle Tom 
hutting in over there and grinning like a 
Cheshire cat.” Uncle Tom seemed to he 
enjoying an amusing conversation with Mur- 
phy, the baggage handler. “And further- 
more, sir,” continued the orator, “speaking 
for my honored consteetuents, of this the 
glorious — th district, we look confidently 
to you to represent us with — ^honor — and — 
distinction in the famous naval school at 
Annapolis — as we feel sure you will. And, 
speaking as a citizen, I con-grat-u-late you, 

24 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


sir, as being tlie first to represent our fair 
city at that school. Thus let it be said when 
the din — of — some — might-y — ^battle — shall — 
reveal — ^you — the — victor, with the gulorious 
stars and stripes waving unsullied and tri- 
um-phant over you — let it be said, I say, Hhis 
was a son of Skowhegan! This was ’ ’’ 

Bump! Murphy’s truck had trundled up 
behind, unobserved, with a load of trunks 
aboard, and somehow hit the comer of the 
Hon. Mr. Larribee’s soap box with such force 
that it nearly spilled the orator upon his 
back. A burst of unfeeling laughter came 
from the audience. 

^‘Excuse me, sorr,” was Murphy’s only re- 
ply to Mr. Larribee ’s black look and muttered 
execration, but the old Irishman’s eyes 
twinkled wickedly. The Congressman, how- 
ever, was too old a politician not to have 
had experience with all sorts of jolts. With 
a tremendous etfort the sunny smile was re- 
stored to the flushed face and he was going 
to try to finish his speech, when the warning 

25 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


clang of a locomotive’s bell turned all atten- 
tion toward the coming train and he sud- 
denly faded out of sight. The school friends 
crowded round Dick with another chorus of 
friendly yells and good-bys. Suddenly he 
felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. It was 
Uncle Tom. 

‘‘Good-by and good luck, Dick! Make 
good!” And he was gone. 

In a few minutes the train was under way. 
“Now at last,” thought Dick, “I’m really 
on my way to Annapolis ! ’ ’ 

He looked out of the car window at the 
gorgeous landscape, with the early autumn 
reds and yellows of the trees through which 
the Kennebec went brawling over its rocky 
bed. But he was too busy with his thoughts 
to see anything. 

“Jingo!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll 
bet old Murphy’s bumping act was a put-up 
job by Uncle Tom. Hang it all, why did he 
always want to spoil the pleasure of every- 
thing? One of these days, by jiminy. I’ll 
26 


RECEIPT OF ORDERS 


invite liim on board my ship and tell him 
what I think of how he used to pick on me. 
Uncle Tom never had much use for Mr. 
Larribee; I wonder why? That was a fine 
speech, and all in my honor, too!’’ Dick 
couldn’t help feeling tickled at the idea of 
being the hero of the hour. 

It proved to be a long, tedious journey. 
There was just one more pleasant thrill in it 
and that was his discovery in a copy of the 
Portland ‘ ‘ Prtess ’ ’ that he bought on the tirain, 
of an interesting paragraph tracked a^vay 
in the column of ‘‘News from the State.” 
“Richard Cary Clinton,” it ran, “nephew 
of the Hon. Thos. Clinton, of Skowhegan, 
had received his orders to report immedi- 
ately to the Naval Academy. Young Clinton 
is the first to represent Skowhegan at An- 
napolis ; he is only sixteen years of age, and 
is regarded as an unusually bright scholar.” 

Pretty fine that! And in the Portland 
paper, too! Dick carefully cut out the pas- 
sage with his penknife and slipped it into his 
27 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


pocket-book. He would mail it back to bis 
aunts, and they would show it to Uncle Tom ; 
trust them for that! 

Then, until he climbed into his berth in the 
sleeper at Boston, he gave himself up to day- 
dreaming over his future career in the great 
naval school. He had been in Annapolis only 
a week when he took the examinations, but 
he could shut his eyes and see those huge 
granite buildings, the awe-inspiring officers, 
with the gold star and braid on their sleeves, 
the broad parade ground where he could 
imagine long lines of midshipmen marching 
and deploying like a great machine to the 
gay strains of the Marine Band. The upper 
classes were all away on their cruise then, 
but they would soon be coming back now, and 
there would be all sorts of fine friendships 
to make and jolly things to do. All this 
^unalloyed delight lay just ahead. 

‘‘In another day or so, Dick Clinton, said 
he to himself, “you’ll be a part of all that 
yourself!” 


II 

THE FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


Annapolis, in September, can be a shade 
hotter than a blast furnace, and on this par- 
ticular afternoon the ‘‘Colonial City” was 
trying to beat its own record. A perspiring 
and cinder-streaked lad was walking slowly 
over the hot bricks of the sidewalk, followed 
by a small darky tugging at a heavy suit- 
case. Dick was in Annapolis at last ! 

As they rounded the corner and the boy 
saw the gate of the Naval Academy, only a 
few rods distant, he stopped for a minute to 
mop his face with the moist and murky hand- 
kerchief he had tucked up his sleeve, care- 
fully arranged his hair, readjusted his straw 
hat, squared his shoulders, and marched 
ahead with as military an air as possible. A 
young woman, fanning herself on a stoop, 

29 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


took in these details with an amused smile. 
The new Plebe looked up just in time to catch 
that smile, and flushed painfully through his 
freckles. 

‘‘Well, what are you snickering atr’ he 
snapped at the grinning negro behind him. 

“Nawthin’, suh,’’ replied the gentleman 
of color instantly, drawing in the slack of 
a wide smile. Considering that at least some- 
thing had been done for the sake of dignity, 
Dick entered the gate. In spite of the heat he 
walked very fast for fear some one would 
call him down for not saluting, as he had 
a suspicion that the marine sentry was an 
upper-classman whom he ought to salute. 
Good! Nobody even noticed him. Now for 
the Superintendent’s office, and then to be 
a “future Admiral!” 

When the orderly ushered him into the 
presence of the Superintendent himself, the 
new Plebe lost all his courage. A tall, erect 
figure, in immaculate white uniform, every 
inch of him an admiral, looked down on a 

30 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


small, very grubby youngster who was the 
picture of nervousness. 

“Your name?^’ 

“Richard Cary Clinton, sir.'^ 

“Agef^^ 

“Sixteen years and four months, sir.^’ 

“Your height came the unexpected 
question. 

“Sir? Oh^ five feet two and one-eighth, 
sir.^’ 

If the gray moustaches twitched a bit at 
the fraction of an inch the new Plebe would 
never have seen it, for his eyes rose no higher 
than the Superintendent's knees. 

“Raise your right handl’^ and young Clin- 
ton thereupon swore without the slightest 
hesitation to defend the Constitution against 
all its enemies, domestic and foreign. 

“Now report to the Officer-in-Charge, Ban- 
croft Hall,” concluded the Superintendent 
with a gesture toward the door. 

“Yes, sir, I mean aye, aye, sir,” stammered 
Dick blushing like fire, and he lost no time in 

31 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


getting away from that awe-inspiring pres- 
ence. For weeks he had imagined meeting 
the Superintendent and other officers. He 
was going to preserve a ‘‘manly, military 
bearing,^’ and whip out “aye, aye, sir,’^ as 
saltily as any boatswain in Marryat. He had 
practised it, too, in imaginary conversations, 
and here he’d gone and got all fussed! Must 
have looked like a blamed fool ! By George, 
he’d make that grinning nigger stand round, 
anyway. A fellow in the navy has got to 
learn to command. 

“Wake up!” he admonished his baggage 
carrier, who was sitting on the bag and doz- 
ing in the shade of the terrace. It was 
“future admiral” Clinton’s best quarter- 
deck voice, but the darky was very slow in 
unfolding himself to a standing position. 

“Looka hyah, mistah, ah ain’t gwine carry 
yo’ bag to Bancroft Hall widout yo’ gimme 
another quarter.” 

“Get out, you black robber,” sputtered 
Dick, “I’ll carry it myself!” 

32 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


‘‘Ah don’ believe yon’ kin,” drawled the 
Ethiop, parading all his teeth. “Yo’ sut- 
tinly is de smalles’ Plebe ah ever seen.” 

After all, it is below one’s dignity to an- 
swer an impertinent colored person. Be- 
sides, Clinton couldn’t think of anything 
sufficiently deadly to say. He boiled to think 
of that High School essay of his that he had 
been so proud of, “Are the negroes really 
free ? ’ ’ They were entirely too free. 

Thanks to obliging watchmen and marines, 
Clinton at last found his way to the Officer- 
in-Charge, who assigned him a room on the 
third floor, or “deck,” as he called it, and 
gave him a fearful list of things to get from 
the Midshipmen’s Store. This last proved 
a long and tiresome job, and it was nearly 
two hours of steady work before the room 
was ready. He had lugged his mattress, 
water pitcher, slop- jar, broom, — everything 
in his outfit, — from the store up three flights 
of stairs to the little cell he was to occupy. 
Then he followed his instructions as best he 


33 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


could by sweeping the room and putting 
everything in order. During all this process 
so many fellows had cracked jokes at him, 
that he pretended he didn’t hear, and he 
never would have finished arranging his fur- 
niture according to regulations if some of 
his classmates hadn’t turned to and helped 
him out. 

What a day it had been! A douse in the 
shower bath made him feel better, but when 
he saw himself in his working suit, which he 
would have to wear until his service uniform 
could be made, he began to wonder why he 
had ever gone into the navy. It’s awful to 
make a fellow look so ridiculous! The suit, 
although the smallest in the store, was still 
too big every way, and its stiff, yellowish 
drilling gave him the feeling of being done 
up in slats and burlap. 

“All fixed?” called a cheery voice. It was 
one of the fellows who had helped him and 
the best of the lot, he thought. 


34 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


‘‘I guess so,” answered Dick, brightening; 
‘‘come in!” 

“I didn’t tell you, but my name is Conried 
Zimmerman. Don’t ask me if I was made in 
Germany; I get peevish. ^Dutch’ has been 
my fate so long that I’ll consider it a per- 
sonal favor if you’ll call me Zim.” 

‘‘Sure. I’m Dick Clinton,” and the two 
shook hands. 

“What brought you to this reform 
school!” continued Zim. “It’s a question 
you’ll be asking yourself before the day is 
over, and I thought I’d get ahead of you.” 
He grinned mischievously at Dick’s tired 
face. 

“Why,” replied the other, somewhat taken 
aback, “I wanted to be a naval officer and — 
serve my country.” 

Zim laughed. “I love my country, but oh 
you brass buttons!” Then, as he saw Dick’s 
sheepish grin, he went on about himself. 
“Well, I came here because I was stage- 
struck.” 


35 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘You?’’ laughed Dick, eyeing the plump 
and comical face. ‘ ‘ Somehow you don ’t look 
like a matinee hero.” He was glad to get 
hack one on his teasing acquaintance. 

Zim, however, grinned cheerfully as ever. 
“Nope. Low comedy is my line. I used to 
do a lot in amateur theatricals, and one day 
I got an offer to go on the boards at a salary. 
Well, my old man is a brewer, and when he 
heard of my dreams he went up in the air 
like a teacher on a thumb tack. He gave me 
the choice of going into the brewery, passing 
the exams for Annapolis, or getting fired 
from home to make a living for myself. 
That’s why I’m here to fight for my country. 
My uncle is in the navy, too. He was here 
on duty last year while I was ‘prepping’ for 
the entrance exams, and he put me wise to a 
lot of things, you bet. Say, what makes you 
so late in reporting here?” 

“A fellow from my district that ought to 
have graduated last June was held over for 

36 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


deficiencies, and of course there wasn’t any 
vacancy for me until he got his diploma. 
I’ve been waiting all summer for orders to 
come, and I began to think they never would 
let him graduate.” 

‘‘Jiminy, but you were in luck! You’ve 
missed three hot, sticky months spent in 
every kind of fool drill that blistered your 
paws and broke your back.” Zim sighed, for 
he was plump and not given to exertion. 
“And three months of plain and fancy cus- 
sin’-out, the like of which would make the 
crew of a tramp steamer mutiny.” 

“But I feel so out of everything. You 
fellows are onto the ropes now, and have 
made friends with each other in the 
class ” 

“Hullo, Wentworth!” interrupted Zim, as 
some one paused in the corridor to look in at 
the half-open door. The stranger nodded 
carelessly and stepped inside. He was a 
finely built fellow of nineteen, handsome as 
a Greek god, but with the air of one who had 
37 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

been very completely informed as to his 
charms. 

‘‘Who’s the little squirt?” he> began under 
his breath, looking at Clinton. 

“Cheese it, Went!” expostulated Zim in a 
whisper. Then, aloud, “ This is another 
classmate of ours, Clinton, from Maine. He ’s 
just come to-day.” 

“From the — th district?” asked Went- 
worth, showing a flash of interest. “Yes,” 
answered Dick as he grasped a rather 
patronizing hand. 

Wentworth released his hand suddenly and 
scowled. “What became of Foster? He 
was the principal from that district. A fine 
fellow with a fine football record, too. He 
and I were in the same boarding house all 
last year out in town. I took my exams in 
April and he in June, and I never knew what 
became of him.” 

“He failed in the math subjects,” said the 
other, feeling rather uncomfortable. 

“Hood Lord, and you got in!” sneered 


38 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


Wentworth, eyeing scornfully the other’s 
‘‘five feet two and one-eighth inches” smoth- 
ered in the ill-fitting drill suit. Then he 
turned on his heel and flung out of the room. 

For the fortieth time that miserable day 
Dick turned hot with mortification and anger. 
Zim also turned red and scowled at the re- 
treating figure. 

“Don’t mind him, old man,” he said sooth- 
ingly. “I knew Went all last year; we 
prepped at the same school, and he’s really 
all right at heart. There are just two things 
the matter with him, he has a rich and doting 
mother, and he’s a corking athlete. All she 
lives for is her darling Harold, and all he 
lives for is himself and football. Instead of 
knocking the conceit out of him here, the 
coaches and the upper classmen of the foot- 
ball squad ‘spoon’ on him, and all our class 
bow down and lick his shoes because he’s the 
only Plebe that’s sure of making the team.” 

“He’s certainly got rotten manners,” 
growled Clinton. 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘Yep, I never knew him quite so unfit for 
publication. I only wish I was big enough to 
lick him. You know in the good old days 
when my uncle was in the Academy, they 
used to haze the conceit out of a fellow like 
that and make a man of him. But now an 
upper classman is afraid to say a word when 
a Plebe gets fresh and raty, because if he 
so much as looked cross-eyed at us he’d get 
fired for hazing. Why I can go ” 

Suddenly Zim sprang to his feet at silent 
and rigid attention, facing the wall. Where 
Zim could go, Dick never learned, but he 
hastily imitated his example. The door was 
pushed open and three upper classmen, mem- 
bers of t£e football squad, stood in the room. 

“Here’s that Frankfurter,” remarked the 
biggest of the group, who, Dick afterwards 
learned was the football captain. Evidently 
he spoke of Zim. “Have you learned your 
lesson?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Zim meekly. 

40 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


‘‘Who’s the meanest man in the navy?” 

“My nncle.” 

“Who has a fat, good-for-nothing slob of a 
nephew in the Plebe class?” 

“My uncle.” 

“All right; now you are sadder Bud- 
weiser. Laugh!” 

“Ha-ha!” cackled Zim feebly. 

“Louder!” 

^^RaAiaAialV^ 

“That’s better. Now beat it to your 
room.” 

“Aye aye, sir,” was the humble response, 
and Conried vanished. Dick thought that the 
scene was such a good joke on his new ac- 
quaintance that his shoulders shook with 
laughter. But his turn followed. 

“I was informed,” continued the captain 
to Dick as he measured him with his eye, 
“that there was a new Plebe in this room 
who was promising football material.” Say- 
ing this, he and his friends seated themselves 
on convenient pieces of furniture, but as 


41 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Clinton made a move to do the same he was 
called back to attention by a warning finger. 

‘^In the navy a subordinate doesn’t take a 
seat in the presence of ranking officers until 
he is directed to do so.” 

The three visitors then eyed the comical 
figure half-smothered in the big yellow work- 
ing suit for a full minute in solemn silence. 
Dick cleared his throat uneasily. He felt in 
the presence of these fellows very much like 
a buckshot in a bag of marbles. 

‘‘I have played football,” he ventured 
faintly in order to break the awkward 
silence. 

‘^Good,” said the captain gravely; ‘‘tell 
us about it. Only don’t forget ‘sir’ in ad- 
dressing your superiors.” 

“Last year I was substitute quarter on the 
Skowhegan High School team — sir.” 

“Kindly repeat that name slowly and dis- 
tinctly.” Dick had to do it three times be- 
cause the others had such difficulty in catch- 
ing it. 


42 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


‘‘And yon did pretty good work, I sup- 
pose?^’ suggested the captain encouragingly. 

“Yes, sir, — I think fairly so, sir,’^ stam- 
mered the Plebe, not knowing what to say, 
and growing very red in the face. 

“We’ll have to remember that and tell the 
head coach,” continued the visitor, and his 
companions nodded gravely. “Report to- 
morrow afternoon on the football field and 
some one will assign you to one of the teams. 
Now let’s see how much you weigh.” Suit- 
ing action to the word, he picked Clinton up 
and stood him on the table. “Not quite the 
requisite number of poupds, I’m afraid. 
Now, Bug, you see what you think.” And 
“Bughouse” Boothby the fullback, attempt- 
ing the task, swore that he couldn’t do it. 
He staggered as he bore aloft the uncom- 
fortable Plebe, and then in some unaccount- 
able way he let go. Dick fell upon the edge 
of the table, knocking the stencil ink over 
the open regulation book, and landed heavily 
on the floor. 


43 


“ PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 

‘‘Ah, ah, that’s had form!” frowned the 
captain. “A football player falls better than 
that. I must write to the coach of the — 
what’s the place?” 

“Skow-he-gan,” chanted the other two 
slowly. 

‘ ‘ Sure, Skow-he-gan — ^High — School — foot- 
ball — team.” Whereupon the three filed out 
of the room, leaving Dick on the floor, rub- 
bing his elbows in a daze. The sight of the 
spilled ink awoke him to energy, and while 
he was painfully sopping up the stains, the 
friendly features of Zim framed themselves 
once more in the doorway. 

“Jiminy, how did you do that?” 

Dick told him. 

“Well, you’ll frap the pap right at the 
start.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Frapping, or hitting, the pap means get- 
ting on the report with a bunch of demerits, 
see?” 


44 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


‘‘Suppose I just told the officers how it 
happened? ’TwasnT my fault.” Dick re- 
sented the injustice of the thing. 

“What? You wouldn’t tell on those fel- 
lows? Jiminy, you wouldn’t last a week in 
this place if you did. ‘Take your medicine 
and shut your mouth’ is the working motto 
for this place. Why when my uncle was a 
Plebe, some upper classmen came in, peeled 
his clothes off and sat him in his wash-basin 
— cold water, too. And they made him row 
with matches instead of oars. While they 
were encouraging him, every man of ’em was 
smoking. Well, when they had gone, and he 
was just pulling on his clothes, a discipline 
officer poked his head in the doorway and 
papped him good and hard for being un- 
dressed and for evidences of smoking. Of 
course he had to take it.” 

Just then the bugle sounded. “Bugle’s 
busted for supper,” remarked Zim; “come 
on to formation.” 


45 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Soon the new Plebe found himself at his 
first formation, and marched off with his 
classmates to the mess hall. For the first 
time since entering he felt fairly comfortable. 
The supper was plain but good, there were 
no upper classmen at his table to scare him, 
and the chaff of his neighbors was only of a 
good-natured sort. With the comfortable 
feeling of fullness under his belt, Dick’s 
courage rose again. 

He returned to his room to continue his 
labors on the spilled ink, and, when that job 
was done, to study the bewildering number 
of regulations in the blue ^‘Eeg.” book that 
he was told he must know by heart. At eight 
the bugle ^‘busted” again, and Zim called 
him out to join the formation for the manual 
of arms drill in the Armory. 

A young lieutenant had the battalion in his 
charge, and he got what amusement he could 
out of a boresome duty. 

^‘Shoulda — a — humps! Look here, young 
gentlemen, you still hold your rifles as if 

46 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


they were pitchforks. Try to remember that 
yon are engaged in a military exercise and 
not making hay.’’ At this some ladies form- 
ing an audience in the gallery tittered. 

‘‘Brace up now,” continued the officer, 
“don’t mind those girls, the same ones snick- 
ered up there when I was a Plebe.” 

“Por-r-t — put that man on the report!” 
he shouted, levelling his forefinger like a pis- 
tol at Dick, who had unluckily shifted his 
weapon before the word “arms.” 

The lad’s inexperience at once marked him 
in the lieutenant’s critical eye more distincfly 
than his working suit as one of those strag- 
glers that gave so much trouble after the rest 
of the class had been licked into shape. 

“What’s the matter with you, Pewee? You 
heave that weapon as if you were moving 
furniture!” 

“I just came to-day, sir,” explained Dick 
timidly. 

“Pipe down!” roared the drillmaster, 
‘ ‘ the navy wants results not excuses ! You re- 
47 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


member that; and, if you can’t, get somebody 
to tattoo it on your person. Eetum your rifle 
to its place, if you can do it without help, and 
go back to quarters. I’ll arrange a kinder- 
garten class for you later.” 

Dick obeyed sullenly, and h6 waited for no 
bugle call to throw himself on his bed. Tired 
as he was by the hard day, the thought of 
his harder experiences kept him for a long 
while wide-awake. All his life as far as he 
could remember, everything had been made 
easy for him by his two aunts who had taken 
him when he was an orphaned baby and de- 
voted themselves to him ever since. True, 
Uncle Tom used to poke fun at him a lot, but 
then he was never unkind and he had worked 
hard for Dick’s chance to enter the Academy. 
Only two days before Dick had been a town 
hero. From his fond aunts to Congressman 
Larribee he had received nothing but those 
delicious flatteries that come with success and 
fame. Then what a fearful drop I Ever since 
entering the Academy yard he had had noth- 

48 


FIRST DAY IN THE ACADEMY 


ing but cruel ridicule, from the fresh little 
nigger who carried his bag to the lieutenant 
who called him “Pewee’^ before the whole 
class. He felt sore and homesick, and if 
there was something hot and salty in his eyes, 
too, it would not be surprising. 


Ill 

GETTING ON TO THE ROPES” 


The first note of reveille awoke Dick with 
a start. It was 6.30 and a sleepy hour to 
get up, but he realized that he was now in a 
life that gave a man no chance to follow his 
own inclinations. A cold shower and a good 
rub down put new life into him. 

‘‘By George, I’ll get there yet!” he told 
his reflection in the glass, and he found his 
place at breakfast formation with as experi- 
enced an air as any of his classmates. It was 
Saturday morning, and it fell to Dick’s com- 
pany to perform a sailing drill in the cutters. 
These are great, heavy round-bottomed boats 
which are clumsy to row and clumsier to sail. 

When he saw them hanging at. their davits 
under the boat sheds, he wondered what on 
earth he was supposed to do; but he looked 
60 


“ GETTING ON TO THE ROPES ” 


on attentively, telling himself that he should 
know all about it next time. The men were 
divided into boat’s crews at the sheds. The 
coxswain of his climbed nimbly into the 
swinging cutter, made her ready, and then 
shouted, ‘‘Lower away, together!” 

The stroke oarsmen attended to the lower- 
ing, and as soon as the boat hit the water the 
crew tumbled in. So far Dick had got along 
all right, but when the coxswain bawled, 
‘ ‘ Stand by to toss ! ’ ’ Dick wondered anxiously 
what on earth he was expected to toss. 
Then, when the order came to “toss,” his 
oar came up a whole second after the rest. 
Similarly with the next orders, “Stand by 
to let fall!” “Let fall!” his heavy oar wob- 
bled in place so awkwardly and so long after 
the rest that he suddenly heard “a regular 
sea-goin’ crossin’ out” hurled at his head by 
a familiar voice. He looked up in dismay to 
recognize in the officer who was in charge of 
the drill that sarcastic lieutenant of the even- 
ing before. Already, Dick discovered he 

51 


PE WEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


was ‘^Pewee’’ to the rest of the class, and 
the hated name stuck. 

He was glad indeed when the coxswain 
called ‘‘way enough!” and the crew stopped 
rowing to make sail. Dick made himself 
as small as possible and simply tried not to 
be in the way. It is no small task to step the 
masts and make sail, and Dick looked on in 
awe as the coxswain of his cutter bawled his 
orders and the crew performed the feat. 

His entire water experience consisted of 
swimming in the Kennebec Eiver, but by 
allowing his boatmates to do what was neces- 
sary, and bearing a hand himself whenever 
they told him what to do, he got along very 
well through the drill and had hopes of finish- 
ing without further disgrace. 

During the drill the breeze died away and 
rose and fell again in faint and uncertain 
gusts. The members of the boats ’ crews were 
instructed to keep a bright lookout for the 
shifting wind and note its direction. The 
lieutenant’s boat surged alongside the cutter 

52 


GETTING ON TO THE ROPES ” 


Dick was in, and, though the latter hid him- 
self as best he could, he could not escape the 
officer's eye. A sudden puff of wind from 
an unlooked for direction rippled across the 
water. 

‘‘Where’s the wind now! Yes, I’m talk- 
ing to you, little one; come, bear a hand 
about it!” 

“Sir,” stammered the Pewee, flustered to 
death but determined to die game, “the 
wind’s — er — chopped round — er — to lee- 
ward, sir.” 

The shout that rose from this reply startled 
the lookout on the old frigate Santee, lying 
on its mud bed half a mile away. Some mis- 
chievous hand loosed a jib sheet, and the sail 
that Dick was leaning against gave way and 
let the unfortunate youngster head-first into 
the water. 

Now there was one thing that he could do 
well, and that was swim. Afterwards he 
thought of the fine joke that he might have 
played on the lieutenant and all those laugh- 
53 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


ing fellows by diving under the keel of the 
cutter and coming up gently on the other side 
and waiting for them to get scared looking 
for him to come up. But when you don^t 
have time to take breath, you come right up 
blowing without stopping to think about it. 
So he was hauled aboard by the aid of a 
boathook in his collar, to the great joy of all 
beholders. The drill went on, and by the 
time it was over the Pewee’s clothes were 
sun-dried, but the jokes over his nautical 
break were still being cracked. 

“What’s the ill wind that blows nobody 
good!” was a favorite gag. Then a chorus 
would roar, “The wind that chops round to 
leeward, sir I” mimicking the lad’s high tones 
in a way that would have made a saint get up 
on his hind legs and swear. It was awful I 
Dick tried to grin but it was a painful effort. 
He felt mad at the lieutenant, mad at the 
fellows who laughed at him, and mad at him- 
self for making the “bust.” 


54 


GETTING ON TO THE ROPES ” 


“Aw, gowanl^^ Zim broke in at the mess 
table when the chant about the “ill wind’’ 
started again. “You fellows made busts just 
as bad when you first came, and don’t you 
forget it. Wentworth, who was it that said 
a half-rater was ‘beating it’ to windward, 
and that ‘the stern sheets are the ropes that 
mustn’t be belayed’!” 

Wentworth, who had started the anthem at 
a neighboring table, flushed and scowled, 
and the others were ready enough to turn 
the laugh on a fellow who had already been 
labelled “stuck on himself.” Dick ate the 
rest of his dinner in peace, and gave Zim a 
look that spelled gratitude in big letters. 

“By George, you were a Jim Dandy to help 
me out,” he said to his friend when they 
were at liberty again. 

“Cheese it,” repKed Zim, embarrassed at 
having anybody thank him, “come on and see 
football practice, they’re going to try out 
a bunch of Plebes this afternoon.” 


55 


PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 


don’t know quite what to do,” answered 
Dick, ‘Hhe captain told me yesterday to re- 
port on the field to-day.” 

did? Shucks, he was running you!” 

‘‘Maybe,” admitted the other a bit nettled 
at Zim’s opinion, “but I played substitute 
quarter on the High School team last year.” 

“Well,” said Zim, “I’m going to sit in 
this corner of the bleachers, if you want to 
find me later.” 

Clinton walked on to the edge of the field 
where the men were gathering sluggishly in 
football togs. It was still too hot to play. 
He decided to stand around where he could 
be seen and if the captain didn’t order him 
to get into a suit and join the squad, why he’d 
go back and sit with Zim. In a few minutes 
the captain came along doing some fancy 
juggling with a football in one hand. The 
ball dropped, and as he stooped to pick it up 
his eye fell on Dick. 

“You told me to report here, sir,” said the 
Pewee. 


56 


« getting on to the ropes ” 


“You’re that new Plebe from Skow — some- 
thing! Hey, Bug, kindly assign this quarter- 
back to one of the teams.” 

Bughouse Boothby, who was lounging on a 
bench, eyed the boy thoughtfully and then 
strode toward the end of the gridiron, fol- 
lowed by the joyfully expectant Clinton. 

“I’ll show Zim,” he said to himself; “I’m 
not much on size but I’m speedy!” 

Just beyond the gridiron a knot of oflScers’ 
children were going through the evolutions 
of football practice with much noise and 
enthusiasm. “These,” said Boothby, point- 
ing to the little fellows, “are the ‘Navy 
Juniors.’ I think you will have no trouble in 

making quarter-back ” But Dick was 

already on the run. 

Having got in the lee of the bleachers, he 
sneaked under them to avoid Zim’s seeing 
him, and then darted off toward quarters. 

First he laid in a supply of Naval Academy 
note-paper with a gilt Academy seal at the 
top and then spread himself at his table to 
67 


PEWEE » CLINTON, PLEBE 


begin writing home all about it. He had 
expected to wait till Sunday, but he felt that 
he must relieve his feelings right away. Page 
after page his fountain pen scratched over in 
the dismal story of how he had been treated. 
He had come anxious to do his best and be 
friends with everybody, and almost every one 
— except Zim — treated him like a fool. It 
wasn’t fair! 

As he described that long string of humilia- 
tions he had suffered ever since he entered, he 
felt so sorry for himself that he began to feel 
a pathetic lump in his throat. He could see 
in his mind’s eye his aunts crying over the 
way their poor boy was being treated. 

Bing! Dick jumped as Zim’s plump figure 
bounced in immediately after the thumping 
knock on the door. 

‘‘Football practice did not keep you very 
long, I seel” 

Dick shuffled his feet and grinned sheep- 
ishly. 

“Look here, old man, don’t you go to run- 
58 


« GETTING ON TO THE ROPES ” 

ning me. I^m so sore now that I can^t stand 
any more.’^ 

‘‘Shucks, I wish you could hear the stories 
my uncle can tell about running Plebes in his 
day. Why, we are coddled ** 

“Hang your old uncle!’’ began Dick, when 
suddenly Zim’s eye fell on the twelve pages 
of sadness scattered about the desk. Dick 
caught the twinkle in Zim’s eye, and hastily, 
but with a careless air, collected the sheets 
and stuffed them into the drawer. 

“Looks as if you had been telling some- 
body the whole sad story.” 

“Well, what if I have?” snorted the other 
who was on the verge of being angry. 

“Speaking of uncles,” continued the other 
diplomatically, “tell me something about 
your Uncle Tom you spoke of yesterday. I 
got the impression that he’s the same old 
cock my uncle is, of whom you spoke so im- 
politely. And yours got you into the Acad- 
emy as mine did me.” Dick was on the 
point of repeating “Who’s the meanest man 

69 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


in the navyT’ but something in Zim’s 
friendly tone led him to swallow the jibe 
unsaid. 

‘‘Well,’’ he replied, “he’s as fine a country 
lawyer as there is in New England; and more 
than once they wanted him to run for Con- 
gress. He’s been mighty good to me and 
I’m proud of him all right, but — somehow I 
never was as crazy about him as you are 
about yours.” 

As Zim’s face looked a question mark, his 
friend continued his burst of confidence. 
“It’s because — don’t know — ^he never 
seemed to care a continental when I got a 99 
in algebra or was elected class orator, or did 
anything like that. The only times he ever 
warmed up were when I went out for football 
and when I passed the exams here last June. 
The rest of the time he’d tease me about be- 
ing a ‘mollycoddle’ or ‘teacher’s pet.’ He’d 
want to know when I was going to grow up^ 
and several times he threatened to make me 
work on his farms during haying time.” 

CO 


« GETTING ON TO THE ROPES ” 


‘‘I’ll bet anything that letter of your^ 
isn’t addressed ‘Dear Uncle Tom’!” laughed 
Zim. “I’m going down to the gym for a dip 
in the pool before supper. So long!” 

Dick sat eyeing his table moodily for sev- 
eral minutes after his friend had left. 
“Mollycoddle!” What sort of a man’s busi- 
ness was this whimpering to his aunts who 
yrould only worry over his silly troubles! 
It came mighty hard, but finally he drew 
those twelve closely written pages out of the 
drawer, and tore them into tiny bits into his 
waste basket. Then he hurried out to join 
his friend in the gym. 

On Sunday afternoon he wrote a cheerful 
letter describing the Academy life to his 
aunts, and to his Uncle Tom he sent the 
following : 

Deab Uncle Tom: 

They have handed me a few since I came. 

But yours truly is still in the game. 

Dick. 


IV 

DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


A FEW days after that first unlucky cutter 
drill, rowing drill in the cutters was assigned 
to Dick’s company. To his dismay, the officer 
in charge of this drill designated him as 
coxswain of one of the cutters, and handed 
him a copy of the ‘‘Boat Book” to call his 
orders from. From his careful watching of 
the previous drill Dick remembered that the 
coxswain climbed into the boat and made 
everything clear for letting fall. 

He decided that he wouldn’t advertise his 
greenness by asking the officer what he should 
do, but scrambled into his cutter, resolved 
to find out by trying and watching his com- 
rades. With an occasional glance over his 
shoulders at his neighbors in their boats, he 
62 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


found it not so hard to get the tackle cleared 
after all, and shonted ‘‘Lower away to- 
gether’’ only a few moments after the other 
coxswains. Naturally, he was a bit nervous, 
but he found the proper place in the boat book 
and, taking his cue from the other coxswains, 
gripped the tiller and bawled his orders man- 
fully. He was going to make good this time I 
They had not gone very far before Dick 
noticed water swishing round in the bottom 
of the boat, and he thought it very inefficient 
of somebody to permit a cutter to remain so 
leaky. He decided to report the matter to 
the lieutenant when the drill was over. In a 
few minutes he realized that the water was 
coming in very rapidly, and there were audi- 
ble grumblings from the men on the thwarts 
to the same effect. The boat was filling! 
Here was an emergency calling for a cool 
head. Dick was determined to show nerve. 
Rising in the stem sheets and facing the 
officer — whose launch was only a few rods 
away — ^he saluted and piped up: 

63 


«PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 

‘‘Sir, I report that my boat is rapidly 
sinking!’’ 

Astonishment fell upon all the boats’ crews 
within earshot and paralyzed their oars. All 
eyes were fixed on the gallant Pewee who 
stood at attention on his sinking craft like 
the boy upon the burning deck. 

“What the !” snorted the lieutenant 

under his breath, and ordered the launch 
alongside. 

“Sir,” volunteered one of the boat’s crew, 
“the plug’s still out !” And he swashed about 
in the water till he found it and jammed it in. 

“Coxswain, didn’t you put that plug in?” 
roared the officer. There was a suppressed 
explosion of laughter on all sides. 

‘ ‘ I — I — didn ’t — know — about ’ ’ stam- 
mered Dick, wilting under that fierce 
question. 

“It’s all right now, sir,” reported the mid- 
shipman who had reported the trouble. 

“Coxswain, you keep your cutter out of 
the drill till you have baled her dry!” 

64 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


So poor Dick had to get down into the bot- 
tom and scoop water out for twenty back- 
breaking minutes, spurred on by witticisms 
from his crew. It was horrible ! 

When the drill was over, he left his class- 
mates as soon as he could. How should he 
have known that there was a plug to be put 
into the bottom before the cutter was low- 
ered! In reality, there had been nothing the 
matter with him but the fact that he was 
green, while his classmates were already 
seasoned by nearly three months of training; 
but he had been so laughed at that he felt as 
if his blunders had been so many and so 
terrible that he was perhaps not fit to be in 
the navy after all. No matter how hard he 
tried, he never could seem to do things right ! 
He wanted to get away from even Zim for 
fear of more ‘^running’’ from his classmates. 

Zim had told him a day or two before that 
no special permission was required to visit 
the Hartford, which lay moored alongside 
the Santee wharf. Farragut was his pet hero. 

65 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


He already knew by heart the thrilling story 
of the New Orleans, Port Hudson and Mobile 
Bay fights and was anxious to tread the his- 
toric decks of FarraguPs flagship. As he 
left the boatsheds it occurred to him that he 
couldn^t find a better way of cheering up than 
by going over the Hartford. 

On coming close to her, he was disappointed 
to find machine-guns at her ports instead of 
the old Civil War smooth-bores, but there, 
over the companionway on the gun deck, he 
found in gold letters the old Admiral’s fa- 
mous ‘‘Damn the torpedoes!” and Dick ex- 
perienced a genuine thrill as he looked at 
that exclamation and thought of the des- 
perate position of the fleet in Mobile Bay 
when that was uttered, and how under Parra- 
gut ’s orders the gallant Hartford led the way 
across the line of torpedoes and snatched vic- 
tory from defeat. 

On returning to the spardeck, he stood in 
the shadow of the mainmast and repeated 
softly to himself the stanzas of a poem he 
66 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


had found in an old volume of the ‘‘Century’’ 
and recited at an “exhibition” of the High 
School: 

Gray-haired old Farragut, 

Strong heart unbroke, 

Daring old Farragut, 

Tliunderbolt stroke, 

Watches the hoary mist 
Lift from the bay, 

Till his flag, glory-kissed. 

Beckons young day. 

Far, by Fort Morgan’s wall. 

Black looms a fleet. 

Hark! deck and rampart call; 

Bolls the drum beat. 

Lads, buoy your anchor-chains. 

While the steam hums. 

Men ! to the battlement, 

, Farragut comes. 

* * * 

On by heights battle-ploughed. 

While the spars quiver; 

Onward still flames the cloud 
^Vhere the hulks shiver. 

See, yon fort’s star is set. 

Storm and fire past. 

Cheer him, lads — Farragut, 

Lashed to the mast! 


67 


^ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


There were two or three enlisted men who ' 
stopped to grin at the little Plebe who seemed 
to be talking so seriously to himself, but Dick 
paid no attention to them, if he even saw 
them. He finished the poem with a warm 
glow of patriotism at his heart and was about 
to leave the ship when a grizzled boatswain, 
with rows of service stripes on his sleeve 
stopped him at the gangway. 

‘'Young gentleman,’’ he said sternly, 
“you’ve been here long enough to know bet- 
ter than to step aboard a man-of-war without 
saluting the flag!” 

Dick flushed, opened his mouth to make an 
excuse, thought better of it, and clipping his 
heels together saluted. Then he beat a retreat. 

Just then a group of Plebes were idling 
along near the wharf scouting for a safe 
outdoor place to smoke in. Among them was 
Zim, who was on Dick’s trail. Meanwhile 
“Dutchy” regaled his companions with some 
of his numerous stories, to the accompani- 
ment of shouts of laughter. 

68 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


‘‘Hullo, Pewee, been spiking your 
called one of the fellows as Dick stepped 
on tbe wharf. 

“Been what?’’ asked the latter, pulling off 
his white duck hat and looking at in a puz- 
zled way as if he expected to find something 
the matter with it. As this raised a laugh, 
he went on, “I don’t know the gag, I’ve just 
been looking over the Hartford/* 

“Squeeze out a few patriotic thrills?” in- 
quired Zim. 

“Sure, why not?” answered Dick stoutly. 
“A Dutch beer barrel like you, I suppose, 
wouldn’t be able to; but my grandfather 
and all his brothers were in the war.” Dick 
didn’t like the careless way Zim had of treat- 
ing sacred things. 

“Help yourself,” answered Zim good- 
naturedly; “the old Hartford is like George 
Washington’s jack-knife that somebody had, 
it’s got a new handle and new blades, but it’s 
the same jack-knife. That tub hasn’t a splinter 
in her that belongs to the Civil War.” 

69 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

Dick snorted that he didn’t believe it. 

‘‘If he thinks so much of the ‘dear old 
Hartford* and hasn’t spiked his hat yet, it’s 
time he did it,” put in one of the group who 
was one of Wentworth’s friends. 

“Well, what is it?” asked Dick, rather 
nettled at the fellow’s tone. 

“Why, kid, every Plehe is supposed to 
pull his hat down over the spike at the top 
of one of the Hartford*s masts till he tears 
a hole through. That’s spiking your hat. 
The foremast is bad luck,” he added casu- 
ally. “They say that every fellow that has 
done the foremast has bilged.” 

“Have you spiked your hat?” 

“Sure, on the main. Most everybody 
has.” 

Dick glanced up at the tip of the main-top- 
gallant-mast. It seemed a mile high. Zim 
said nothing, and the rest of the crowd looked 
at the Pewee in a quizzing way that was a 
challenge. 

“If you’ll lend me your sneakers,” said he 
70 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


to the smallest of the lot who had been play- 
ing tennis, ^^I’ll spike it now!’’ 

The other cheerfully contributed his ten- 
nis shoes, and Dick marched back to the 
Hartford, 

‘‘Do it in style, old man!” Zim called out 
to him in encouragement. Dick stepped 
aboard again, this time not forgetting to 
salute the flag in proper style. Then he 
started up the shrouds. He picked his way 
at first rather clumsily and slowly, clutching 
tightly to the rigging, and getting from his 
classmates jeering advice not to “squeeze 
all the tar out of the ropes.” At this he 
stopped to wave a careless hand at them, 
hoping to give them the idea that he was 
having the time of his life. 

Feeling that he must try not to appear so 
lubberly, he put on extra steam and scram- 
bled up the shrouds with fairly creditable 
speed for a beginner. It wasn’t so bad with 
steady ratlines to tread on and taut shrouds 
to cling to, but when he got to where the top- 
71 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

gallant mast was stepped he had to leave the 
shrouds for the ‘‘Jacob’s ladder.” This, on 
an old square-rigger, is a villainous rope lad- 
der, fastened only at top and bottom, and as 
you begin climbing on it it develops a nasty 
trick of swaying back and forth like a flying 
ring in a gym. 

Cheer him lads — Farragut, 

Xiashed to the mast! 


The lines came back to the poor little lubber 
with a ludicrous significance, as he started 
up the Jacob’s ladder. 

“Old Farragut had a cinch. I wish some- 
body would lash me to the mast!” Slowly 
but manfully Dick struggled up till, when he 
was about half-way up the swaying made him 
so dizzy that he had to shut his swimming 
eyes, grip hard with hands and knees and 
stop for a few moments. An effort of will 
and the rest conquered the giddy head and 
Dick was soon at the top of the ladder and at 
the foot of the topmast spar. Again he had 

72 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


to steady himself with the best effort he 
could muster for he happened to look below 
and the deck seemed so small and so dread- 
fully far down I 

Now came what seemed the impossible part 
of the feat. Up from where he cluiig the spar 
rose about fifteen feet, without a shroud or 
a stay to cling to. For a minute he had to 
struggle hard against a sickly temptation to 
give up and climb down again. He thought 
of that old story in the Fifth Header of the 
middy — the Captain’s son — ^who climbed to 
the main- truck of the Constitution and 
couldn’t get down till his father made him 
jump into the water by threatening to shoot 
him. Dick shuddered as he pictured to him- 
self that fearful jump. Then he thought of 
those fellows down there watching him, and 
especially Zim. 

‘‘No, sir,” he hissed between set teeth, 
“I’ll break every bone in my body first!” 

He spit on his hands, grasped the bare 
spar between his knees, and began shinning 
73 


•• PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

up. After the first few inches, when he dis- 
covered that he didn’t tumble headlong at 
the first try, the climb wasn’t so desperately 
hard after all. He began to feel a rather 
pleasant exhilaration in the excitement of 
doing the biggest stunt” he had ever 
attempted. He did not trust himself to look 
down, but concentrated his attention on the 
strip of varnished wood between his hands 
and chin till at last he reached the very tip. 
Then, with one hand, he whipped off his hat 
and pulled it down over the spike till it tore 
through the cloth. Clapping the wounded 
hat back on his head, he gripped the mast 
tighter than ever and let himself, for the 
first time, look round. His eyes took in a 
magnificent sweep of woods, fields, the shim- 
mering expanse of bay with the sails of the 
oyster boats in the distance gleaming snow 
white in the afternoon sun, then the Academy 
buildings, and directly beneath him the broad 
river. But as the look downwards on the 
river made him dizzy again, he shut his eyes 
74 


DICK SPIKES HIS HAT 


and let himself slip down slowly till he 
reached the foothold. 

With the feeling of triumph warming the 
cockles of his heart, Dick made light work 
of the down trip. Before he reached the dock 
again, some of the fellows had gone, among 
them the one who had put it up to the Pewee 
to spike his hat ; but there were still several 
waiting to greet him when he stepped on the 
wharf triumphantly twirling his spiked hat 
with his finger through the hole. 

‘ ‘ Banzai I ^ ’ shouted Zim, ‘ ‘ and then some ! ^ ^ 

‘‘Good Kid!’’ laughed the others. “Say, 
make Dutchy diwy!’^ suggested one. “You 
did the work.’’ 

“I’ve just made seven dollars,” explained 
Zim complacently. ‘ ‘ Several of this bunch — 
some are not here to welcome you — bet that 
you wouldn’t do it, and I took ’em.” He 
produced a roll with the air of a book-maker 
at the races. “It is also considered ‘de rig- 
ger’ for a Plebe to do a back air-spring oif 
the fore topsail yard of the Hartford, land- 

7S 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


ing neatly in tlie water without much splash. 
Now will any sportin^ gent put up five dollars 
that my young frien’ here can’t do it!” 

Just then the warning stroke of the bell 
warned the laughing Plebes of the nearness 
of supper formation, and the group scattered 
in the direction of Quarters. Zim chuckled 
quietly to himself as he strolled back with 
his roommate. 

“Did you ever spike your hat!” asked 
Dick suddenly. 

“ Me ! ” laughed the other. “No such fool I 
Wliat chance do you think my fat tummy 
would have shinning that mast! I’m 
great on dying for my country. I only wish 

I had more lives to give for my country ” 

Here Zim struck a pose as Nathan Hale. 
“But I’m darned if I break my neck for 
nothing. Still, it was rather up to you, old 
man,” he added laying a chummy hand on 
Dick’s shoulder, “and I knew you’d make 
good.” 


V 

A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


Much to Dick^s joy, Zim found no diffi- 
culty in arranging it so that the two could 
be roommates. The fellow originally 
assigned to Zim as roommate had been sent 
away on indefinite sick leave shortly before 
Dick arrived, so that only official permission 
was needed to permit the latter to move in. 
The arrangement provided for a bed apiece 
in one room, with a table in common, and a 
locker apiece. Being a Plebe room, its win- 
dows faced the inner courtyard instead of 
the Yard or Chesapeake Bay, and being an 
Academy room, it had nothing of the attrac- 
tiveness of a college boy’s quarters, for the 
regulations do not permit a single article of 
adornment; but the companionship of a jolly, 
level-headed chap like Conried Zimmerman 
77 


‘‘ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


made up for everything. He wa^ invaluable 
to Dick in constantly reminding him of the 
hundred and one little details of the routine 
that the rest of the class had already learned, 
and after the latter’s first nervousness wore 
off he began to catch on to the ropes rapidly. 

In spite of Zim’s description of the horrors 
of summer drills, Dick didn’t find the pro- 
gram so dreadful after all. The September 
routine that he fell into consisted of two or 
three drill periods a day, with one recitation 
in French, or mechanical drawing, leaving 
plenty of time for tennis, swimming, or 
browsing among the shelves in the library. 

It was now the end of September and the 
day before the rest of the midshipmen were 
due to return. Zim, who had a knack of 
knowing about everything sooner than any- 
body else, burst in that afternoon fairly bulg- 
ing with news. 

Listen, there’s a company rough-house 
on to-night!” 


78 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


‘‘Com-pan-y rough-house. You know what 
a ‘company^ is and you know there is such a 
thing as a ‘rough-house.’ Well, anyhow, 
during the summer the second company and 
the third — that’s us, you know, — ^have had 
two grand fights. We lost the first because 
the other crowd came up on our deck without 
any warning and out of sheer malice. It 
wasn’t a fight, it was a rout.” 

“What did they do to you!” grinned Dick. 

“To be explicit, my dear Alphonse, we 
were soused in the shower baths. But the 
second time we got wind of what was coming 
and we drove ’em back. They had foozled 
the attack anyhow, because a lot of their men 
didn’t know about it until it was all over and 
we had driven the gang down the stairs 
before the 0. C. showed up.” 

“How do you fight?” Dick was getting 
excited at the idea. 

“Water — slop jars and pitchers, plus 
79 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

brooms. The fellow that’s taken prisoner 
and ducked in the shower is, by the rules of 
the gentle sport, ‘dead.’ ” 

“It’s rumored on the QT,” added Zim, 
“that our friends on the lower deck are com- 
ing to wipe us up to-night. It’s the last 
chance for a Plebe rough-house because the 
upper classmen arrive to-morrow. Our fel- 
lows had been talking of a raid on general 
principles, but we’re bound to be on the de- 
fensive because there are more of them and 
some of them the biggest fellows in the class. 
There’ll be a run on the store for crockery 
to-morrow!” And Zim’s eyes twinkled at 
the thought of the coming battle. 

Dick, who had never seen a real rough- 
house in his life, was so much excited that he 
couldn’t put his mind on the French verbs of 
that day’s lesson to save his life. At the first 
opportunity he examined the walls of the 
corridor and the approach by the big central 
stairway. He brought back an idea which 
80 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


he and Zim talked over for a long while. It 
was a bit irregular, Zim thought, and he was 
a great stickler for naval tradition, but he 
finally declared himself game for it in a 
pinch. How Dick wished he had the inches 
and muscles of a fellow like Wentworth! 
Well, anyway, he could show ’em he wasn’t 
a mollycoddle ; he’d help somehow. And with 
this thought he finally dropped asleep. 

The third-deckers had posted a sentry after 
taps and inspection, to give warning of the 
approach of the enemy. These pickets stood 
watch an hour at a time till midnight, when 
at the last stroke of the eight bells the sentry 
who was just on the point of going to call 
his relief, heard the sounds of opening doors 
and pattering feet on the floor below. In- 
stantly he darted down his corridor, thump- 
ing on the doors like a Paul Revere in paja- 
mas. The doors opened in a twinkling, 
emptying the room of towsled figures, each 
with a pitcher or slop jar in one hand and a 
81 


6 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


broom in the other. And they were none too 
soon in turning out. Just as Dick, blinking 
in a daze, reached the part of the corridor 
near the stairs, he saw the two companies 
already joined in battle. The second- 
deckers, who had been well organized, led by 
Wentworth and the heavier men, were crowd- 
ing steadily up the stairs, ducking the group 
of third-deckers, who, though disorganized, 
stood manfully at the head of the stairs like 
Horatio at the bridge. As soon as water 
gave out, both sides took to whacking each 
other with brooms like Turk and Christian. 

At first the third company had an advan- 
tage in their position. It is easier to throw 
water down than up. The others who found 
that they were unable to take the third- 
deckers by surprise, postponed the water 
process, after the first few minutes of the 
attack, until they had got possession of the 
deck and could capture their enemy one by 
one and douse them in their own shower 


82 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


baths. No amount of water from the third 
deck could keep the attacking party back, 
and they advanced steadily, though every 
inch was fiercely contested. 

Dick, being the smallest man on the deck, 
soon tossed away his useless broom and, with 
two or three others, ran back and forth fill- 
ing empty jars and pitchers for those in the 
front ranks. The air was alive with brooms, 
streams of water, and an occasional jar or 
pitcher which sailed down with its contents 
and smashed against the wall. Finally, Went- 
worth and his huskies threw away their 
brooms, and paying no attention to water or 
broom, closed with the leaders of the third- 
deckers and fought to disarm them and make 
them prisoners. Their clothes were torn to 
ribbons but this form of attack was irresist- 
ible. One by one the third-deck warriors of 
the front ranks had their brooms wrenched 
out of their hands, were grabbed and hustled 
down the stairs to the rear men, who carried 
83 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


them off to the shower baths with loud jeers. 
According to the rules of the game, this put 
them out of the fight. 

The third company rallied desperately, but 
the forward pressure of the attacking column 
was too much and they began to give way. 

‘‘Now’s the time!” cried Zim, who had 
been at Dick’s elbow during most of the 
fight. After the final inspection by the oflScer 
in charge, the two had taken down the fire 
hose that hung coiled on the wall, stretched 
it clear and tested the valve. Now they 
turned on the water. The heavy canvas hose 
swelled and curved like a giant python as the 
two jumped for the nozzle. The last de- 
fenders, not captured by the enemy, broke 
and fled, and on stormed Wentworth at the 
head of his troops. 

“ There ^s that blanked little squirt!”— he 
began, catching a glimpse of Dick’s face in 
the dim light of the corridor. But he got no 
further. 

“Speaking of squirts ” chirped Dick, 


84 



“ SPEAKING OF SQUIRTS,” CHIRPED DICK, AS HE AIMED THE TORRENT 
SQUARELY INTO WENTWORTH’S SOLAR PLEXUS 





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A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


grinning at his little joke, and, as the pres- 
sure reached the nozzle, he aimed the torrent 
squarely into Wentworth’s solar plexus. 

As many remarked the next day, it was as 
clean a knockout as a fellow could ask to 
see. Wentworth forgot everything and just 
curled up with his mouth open and gasping 
like a fish on the beach. The next man caught 
it on the jaw and fell over backwards. The 
other third-deckers instantly rallied to their 
new engine of defence, and sprang once more 
to the fray. They dragged Wentworth with 
unholy joy to the nearest shower hath and 
soaked him into feeble consciousness. The 
rest of the second-deckers, unable to face 
that torrent scrambled ingloriously down the 
stairs. Just then a warning cry came from 
one of the prisoners on the deck below. 

“Beat it, the 0. C.!” 

0. C. is Academy slang for the Officer-in- 
Charge, who had finally in his distant room 
awakened to the noise, and after hurrying on 
enough clothes to support his dignity had 

85 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


made with all haste to the battlefield. At 
that warning cry friend and foe at once fled 
to their rooms, leaving the decks and stairs 
streaming with water and littered with 
broken brooms and crockery. But the victory 
had been won. A half dozen of the third- 
deckers hurriedly turned to stow the hose 
before the 0. C. should make his appearance; 
and, as that official stopped on the deck below 
to have the second company mustered for in- 
spection, they succeeded in getting it ship- 
shape and themselves out of sight before he 
arrived on the third deck. 

The two companies had to stand at atten- 
tion on their respective floors for fifteen 
dripping, shivering minutes. It was a won- 
derful spectacle of very pink young gentle- 
men, soaked to the skin, with their pajamas 
mostly in tatters, and some adorned only 
with a hastily-snatched towel. All hands 
were informed that they were reported for 
‘‘making a disturbance after taps^’ with a 
minimum of ten demerits, but what’s a matter 


86 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


of ten demerits in the light of victory ! The 
third-deckers almost grinned in the face of 
the angry officer. And Pewee Clinton sud- 
denly found himself the hero of the hour. 

‘‘You made yourself solid with the boys 
to-night, all right,’’ chuckled Zim, slapping 
his roommate on the back. “I told ’em that 
fire hose business was your idea. Ha — ha! 
Didn’t old Went look like a cat throwing 
a fit?” And for several minutes Zim con- 
tinued to chortle to himself under the bed- 
clothes. 

For Dick, the thought that at last he had 
made good before his classmates, after all 
his greenness and blunders, was so sweet 
that it was long before he could get to sleep 
for excitement and joy. And when he did 
drop off, it seemed only about thirty seconds 
before reveille sounded. 

The new day, September 30, brought back 
the rest of the midshipmen for the beginning 
of the new year. All day they streamed 
through the corridors, togged out in their 
87 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


loudest “cits/’ which they had that day to 
exchange for the quiet dark blue of the ser- 
vice uniform. As they passed the Plebes they 
made careless remarks about them in a loud 
tone. Of course Dick came in for a lion’s 
share of ridicule, but he was learning to take 
it now without letting it hurt him. 

There was something rankling in his mind, 
however, and that was the way he had just 
been treated by Bullen, a first classman who 
had been appointed to teach him the manual 
of arms. Bullen ’s manner had been disagree- 
able from the first, but this morning his lan- 
guage had been unbearable. The familiar, 
hot rankling feeling, burned again, and, after 
the triumph of the night before, that mean 
sensation was the last thing that Dick had 
expected to have. In spite of what Dick felt 
was a reasonable proficiency in the drill 
manual, Bullen had steadily reported him 
“not qualified” to the drill lieutenant, as if 
the fellow took a malicious pleasure in having 
the little Plebe under his thumb. 

88 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


It was recreation hour and he and Zim 
talked it over as they walked over to the 
athletic field to watch the first line-up of the 
regular football squad. 

‘‘I tell you, Zim, it makes me ashamed that 
I stood such language from him! And IVe 
never done a thing to deserve it. I’ve caught 
on to the manual well enough now to drill 
with the rest of the class, and I’ve been per- 
fectly respectful, too. He has always been 
disagreeable, and now he’s rank dirty — in- 
sulting!” Dick’s face got red and he fairly 
exploded at the last word. 

Zim looked thoughtful and let his room- 
mate pour out all his wrath without a word 
in reply. 

‘^Well, what’s the dope?” concluded Dick, 
turning to his chum for advice. 

^‘Come on over to this empty bench, and 
I’ll tell you. This fellow Bullen is a bad 
egg. I heard some of the upper classmen 
call him the ‘Bilger,’ because he has dropped 
back twice on account of deficiencies in his 


89 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

studies and more than once has been fired and 
reinstated. They say that he^s been here 
five years already ; and only last spring, while 
I was a candidate out in town, I heard about 
his being fired for something very serious 
and then having his punishment commuted 
to loss of summer leave. That^s why he 
has been around here all summer. Senator 
Doby appointed him, and you know what that 
means for pull. Bullen bragged to me once 
that the Superintendent couldnH fire him.’’ 

‘‘How did he happen to take you into his 
confidence?” interrupted Dick. 

“Well, I knew Bullen because he used to 
be very chummy with Wentworth last year 
when we were candidates. He used to tell 
me that he’d ‘spoon’ on me when I got into 
the Academy because I was Went’s friend. 
For awhile after I entered he was mighty 
smooth with me. He talked a lot about how 
fine it was to be a sport, and used to fake me 
off to an empty room to teach me poker. I 

90 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


played because my uncle told me to do what 
I was told by upper classmen, but after 
Bullen had cleaned me out of fifty dollars, I 
decided I^d had enough. The lessons came 
too high, and I told him so. He hasn’t had 
any use for me since, and to-day he cut me 
dead.” 

‘‘He’s still pretty thick with Wentworth, 
isn’t he?” 

“Yes, that’s the thing I’m coming to. 
Went isn’t very bright and he’s simply get- 
ting buncoed without catching on to it. I 
believe that the trouble with you and me is 
that we knocked the wind out of him last 
night and got him laughed at by the whole 
class for the figure he cut in front of that 
hose. Now Bullen is taking it out of you 
while he has the chance in order to keep him- 
self solid with Wentworth, and he’ll take a 
whack at me if he gets an opening.” 

“Well, I tell you right now, if he gives me 
any more of that kind of lip, I’m going to 

91 


A COMPANY ROUGH-HOUSE 


answer back good and plenty ! ^ ’ growled Dick, 
still nursing his anger. 

“If you do, you’ll get into a peck of 
trouble,” warned his friend, “as I’ve told 
you before, a Plebe’s business is to do as he 
is told and keep his mouth shut.” 


VI 

AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


With the beginning of the next week 
started the regular routine of the Academy 
year. In addition to the French and mechani- 
cal drawing there were now recitations in 
Mathematics and English, with a drill almost 
every afternoon. Monday afternoon, much 
to Dick’s disgust, he was ordered to report 
again to Bullen for special instruction in the 
manual of arms. Dick took a rifle from the 
rack in the Armory at the appointed time 
and stood at attention before his tormentor. 
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a 
glimpse of Wentworth, who, being excused 
from drill on account of a cut foot received 
on the night of the water-fight, was lolling 
in the gallery before going to watch the foot- 
93 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


ball practice, from which also he had been 
temporarily excused. 

‘‘Here, you snivelling, little, sissified 
skunk,” began Bullen with a wink in Went- 
worth’s direction, “get busy. Don’t glare 
at me like a poisoned rat ! ’ ’ 

Somehow Dick could feel that Wentworth 
was grinning, though he couldn’t see him, and 
he trembled with rage. Bullen looked around 
to see that nobody else was within earshot 
and then he let drive at Dick a volley of 
filthy abuse that can be represented in type 
only by a row of stars. 

“Shut up, you mucker!” 

Bullen would not have been more surprised 
if the roof of the armory had fallen in, and 
he actually did shut up for a whole second. 
“And I’m not going to stand for any more 
of your mouth if I have to resign for it!” 
Dick, hardly realizing himself what he was 
doing, turned on his heel, returned his rifle 
to the rack, and marched rapidly out of the 
building, paying no heed to the angry orders 
94 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


Bullen shouted after him. The latter dashed 
after him, finally, with clenched fists and 
awful threats, but Dick beat him to the door 
and marched straight up the walk to quarters 
without turning his head to look back. 

Bullen followed in a towering rage and, as 
soon as he could, forwarded to the Command- 
ant’s office a report against Midshipman 
Clinton of ‘‘gross insubordination, disobedi- 
ence of orders, and gross disrespect to a 
superior officer.” Any one of these offences 
was almost enough in itself to send a guilty 
midshipman fiying out of the gates in his 
citizen’s clothes. Zim was frankly alarmed 
when he heard the story, and Dick, as he 
thought over the prospect of being dismissed 
in disgrace, began to feel a sinking feeling 
under his ribs. 

That night he was put under arrest; that 
is, he was forbidden to leave his room, and 
ate a melancholy supper by himself. Zim, 
though worried, did his best to cheer him up. 

“Remember, old chap, the Bilger has a 

95 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


rotten reputation, and you can bet your last 
dollar that the Old Man (the Commandant) 
doesn’t love him any too well. He’s a square 
old whisker, too. Don’t worry, old chap!” 

But the lad couldn’t help worrying over 
the thought of being dismissed just as the 
term’s work was beginning. What would the 
folks say in Skowhegan f How could he face 
his old High School friends again? He tossed 
back and forth on his bed long after taps. 
Finally a comforting thought came to him : 

‘‘By George, if Uncle Tom knows all about 
it, I know he’ll stand by me anyway!” 

In due time, namely after the first morn- 
ing recitation, Dick received his summons to 
appear at the Commandant’s office. It had 
been awe-inspiring to face the Superinten- 
dent on the first day, but to stand before the 
Commandant, that dispenser of demerits, 
that martinet before whom even first class- 
men are afraid, and with the knowledge that 
you stood guilty of an awful offense in the 
laws of a military school, — well, no wonder 

96 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


Dick^s heart beat in bis tbroat and bis stom- 
acb felt as if be were shooting down in an 
elevator. 

‘‘You understand that you are reported for 
a very serious offense, Mr. Clinton!^’ The 
Commandant bent his eyes on Dick, as if be 
expected to read bis answer on the lad’s face. 
“I ordered your division officer to send you 
direct to me, because I prefer to hear what- 
ever statement you have to make from your 
own lips.” 

Dick drew a long breath, squared bis shoul- 
ders, and looked the officer directly in the 
eye. “Sir,” he began, “I’ve tried my best 
to learn the drill, and to show proper respect, 
too. But I couldn’t stand nasty epithets, 
sir.” 

“Disobedience and insubordination are not 
to be excused by the use of rough words from 
a superior officer, young man.” 

“Aye, aye, sir.” 

“Twenty-five demerits,” concluded the 
Commandant after a pause. “And you are 


97 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

ordered to join your company in all drills 
from and including to-day. You may go.’’ 

Dick turned on his heel and walked out. 
Once outside, he drew a deep breath of relief 
that was almost a sob. What of twenty-five 
demerits! That put him on third conduct 
grade, of course, hut it wasn’t dismissal! 
And he had to restrain a strong desire to 
whoop. Zim was waiting for him with 
anxiety written all over his pink face, and 
when he heard the news he hugged his room- 
mate and they performed a wild dance of joy. 

While this was going on, another scene, in 
some respects -a duplicate of the first inter- 
view with the Commandant, was taking place. 
Bullen had been surprised by orders to re- 
port to the Commandant’s office. He came 
and stood before the official desk with the 
assured air of one who had been there many 
times, and scored several notable victories. 
The Commandant looked at Bullen, but not 
with the eye of inquiry that he had levelled 
on Clinton, and which the latter told Zim 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


seemed to see my spine from the front.’’ 
The Commandant already knew the Bilger 
very well, and did not love him, either. That 
very morning’s paper had brought word of 
Senator Doby’s defeat in the primaries for 
re-election to the Senate. The ‘‘Progres- 
sives ’ ’ in his state had organized a successful 
campaign against one of the “Old Guard” 
who for fifteen years had been almost a dic- 
tator in the naval committee. So sure had 
he been in causing the reversal of the sen- 
tence of dismissal against Bullen by the Sec- 
retary of the Navy that he had written a 
personal note to the Commandant regarding 
Bullen ’s case that amounted to an insult. 

The Commandant now smiled grimly as he 
twisted the ends of his grizzled moustache. 
“Mr. Bullen, you have been guilty of using 
abusive and indecent language to a subor- 
dinate without provocation. You are too old 
an offender to get off easy. Forty demerits. 
You may go.” 

Bullen went out boiling with fury and long- 


99 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


ing for revenge. A few days afterwards the 
longed-for opportunity came. He and one 
of his under-class satellites, Eiordan, were in 
the gym at the same time Dick was there 
practising on the tumbling mat. He had just 
landed after a successful air-spring when he 
heard his name called in the unpleasant voice 
of his foe. At his elbow was Eiordan, grin- 
ning disagreeably. 

^‘Here are boxing gloves,’’ said Bullen; 
‘^you have a chance to learn something from 
Mr. Eiordan. Oh, you’re afraid you’ll get 
hurt, are you?” he sneered as Dick hesitated. 

The latter instantly seized the gloves thrust 
toward him and put them on without a word. 
He saw the put-up game. Fighting is for- 
bidden under very severe penalties, but 
there’s nothing to prevent a friendly set-to 
in the gymnasium with gloves. Eiordan was 
two inches taller than Dick and heavier. 
Suddenly, with a sickening regret, Dick re- 
membered that last summer, when Uncle Tom 
had offered to pay for a course of boxing les- 
100 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


sons for him he had been too lazy to take 
advantage of the oifer. He knew nothing 
whatever about the use of his fists and had 
no doubt at all as to the outcome of the 
approaching encounter. Only he resolved 
with his teeth set that he would keep on com- 
ing up as long as he could see. 

‘‘Here’s your classmate, Wentworth,” sug- 
gested Bullen maliciously, as the latter 
strolled in, “he’ll be glad to act as second 
for you, I’m sure.” 

“I don’t want him,” answered Dick curtly. 
“Come on, you!” Wentworth laughed de- 
risively and stood by to watch the conflict. 
Riordan certainly did “come on.” He 
proved to be a regular little Irish whirlwind 
with the gloves. Bat, swat, hing! In a min- 
ute Dick’s nose was running a red stream, in 
another his lip was cut and an eye was 
damaged. Next, a thud on the end of the 
hreasit-bone, followed by a jab on the point 
of the jaw, sent him, a breathless heap, to the 
mat. The two onlookers jeered and laughed. 

101 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Just then another figure strolled over to 
the group. It was “Ehino^' Douglas, a first 
classman and ‘‘four-striper’^ in the brigade 
organization, also captain of the gym team. 
Dick staggered groggily to his feet and put 
up his “dukes” for the sake of sticking it 
out as long as he could, when another full 
swing on the sore nose bowled him over 
again. 

“I reckon that’s about enough,” drawled 
Douglas, with a southern accent. “This isn’t 
boxing. Go back to the wash-room and hurry 
back here again,” he ordered Dick. “Now 
you, Bullen, peel off and let’s have another 
little bout — if you’re not a coward,” he 
added, as the Bilger tried to bluff him off 
with an “aw gowan, it’s too hot.” 

There was no love lost between the two 
evidently, for at the word coward Bullen 
flung off his coat and shirt with an oath, 
snatched Eiordan’s gloves and began pulling 
them on. Eiordan stood by with all the Irish- 
man ’s passion to see or be in a fight, and by 
102 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


the time Dick came running back with some 
of his red badge of courage removed, the 
two first classmen were circling about each 
other for an opening. 

Bullen was a strongly built fellow, with 
reach and weight clearly superior to Douglas. 
The latter, however, was slightly taller and 
decidedly quicker. It was a battle royal. 
Slowly Bullen dropped from attack to de- 
fense, as one round after another was called 
off by Riordan who held the watch. Of 
course, boxing gloves are softer than bare 
knuckles, but when blows that mean business 
rain on eye, nose, and lip, round after round, 
it gets monotonous for the victim, to say the 
least. Moreover, if one has not been in 
training for a long while one’s wind gets 
blown. Nothing, however, seemed to tire 
Douglas. His blows were speedier at the 
fifth round than at the first. It was the first 
exhibition of scientific boxing Dick had ever 
seen, and though he could appreciate only a 
small part of what he saw, his mouth was 


103 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


open with wonder and admiration. At the 
seventh round Bullen seemed to be getting 
very tired; he tried merely to cover. Doug- 
las followed him up with an attack so hard 
and rapid that twice his opponent went to 
the mat. At the end of the eighth he took the 
count. 

‘‘Get enough?^’ asked Douglas. Bullen 
reluctantly grunted an affirmative, wiping 
away the blood that streamed from his nose 
and lip. “All right. Next time don’t put 
up a job on a small Plebe while I’m around.” 

Bullen and his two retainers made off to 
the dressing rooms, the former making vari- 
ous elaborate excuses for his defeat to the 
latter. Douglas put out his hand to Dick. 

“I’m ‘spooning’ on you, as they say here. 
What’s your name and where are you from?” 
Dick told him. “Well, I’m from Tennessee. 
Your grandfather and mine probably shot at 
each other fifty years ago. Now I want to 
tell you that no fellow has a right to grow up 
without learning to use his fists. Your 

104 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


attempt would have disgraced a girl. I 
noticed you starting gym work. That’s all 
right, but you must learn to box.” 

“Would you be willing to give me a few 
lessons?” asked Dick humbly. 

“Sure. Now for the pool. Do you swim?” 

Dick then thanked his Uncle Tom from the 
bottom of his heart that he was able to say 
yes confidently. In a few minutes the two 
were taking long dives into the cool green 
depths of the pool. 

“What you want to remember about that 
little set-to,” said Douglas while they were 
dressing, “is that it was nothing but a case 
of training against no training. Bullen boxes 
fully as well as I do, but I kept him going 
fast till he was so winded that he wobbled 
on his feet. He is a good second baseman, 
too, but, like a lot of these athletes, when 
he’s through with the season’s training he 
lets himself get soft and fat and short-winded. 
Look at them after they graduate. There’s 
Putnam, one of the football coaches. He was 

105 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

a star tackle when I was a Plebe. Now he^s 
so fat that he puffs when he stoops to pick up 
a ball. The thing is to keep in condition all 
the time, young man, and that’s worth more 
than making a team or breaking a record. 
When athletics get sane one of these days, 
we’ll have exercise for the body’s sake, in- 
stead of bodies sacrificed for the sake of the 
exercise. In the long run, the crew, track 
and football do more to injure than to bene- 
fit. I’ve got a lot of medicine men with me 
in that opinion, too, and I’m telling you this 
because you’re too small to go into any of 
those things and I want to give you this com- 
fort for yourself, that you can make yourself 
more fit and develop yourself better by sen- 
sible work in the gym and sensible games 
outdoors than by being the athletic hero of 
the Academy. And you begin with the boxing 
gloves.” 

Dick listened respectfully as became a 
Plebe, though such heresy against football 
and athletics in general made him wonder 
106 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


if his new friend were not a bit “queer/’ 
Douglas lingered behind to look over a new 
horizontal bar that had just been installed, 
and as Dick left the gym alone, he saw Went- 
worth strolling back and forth, apparently 
waiting for some one. Dick left him plenty 
of room by crossing to the other side of the 
road, but the other followed and stopped him. 

“See here, Pewee!” 

“Well?” 

“I want to tell you that you might as well 
resign, because you won’t last long any way. 
You have queered yourself by whining to the 
Commandant about what Bullen said to you 
at drill. Tattling doesn’t go in this place, 
and Bullen will never forget it. He’ll keep 
you always on the report for something, and 
my friends are as anxious as I am to get a 
little shrimp like you out of the class and the 
Academy. You’ll save trouble for yourself 
by resigning now.” 

“If you call what I did whining and tat- 
tling, Bullen did it first,” retorted Dick. But 
107 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Wentworth disdained to be dragged into an 
argument and walked rapidly away. 

“Oh/’ groaned Dick, clenching his fists, 
“why wasn’t I made big enough to — to — 
hand him a few! So he and Bullen think 
they can run me out of the Academy, do they? 
I’ll show ’em!” And he thought with confi- 
dence of the new friend he had in the four- 
striper, the cadet officer who ranks second in 
the brigade formation, who had not only 
“spooned” on him but so gallantly avenged 
him that very afternoon. 

Zim listened with great interest to his 
friend’s recital of the afternoon’s adven- 
tures. 

“Gee, but you’re always in hot water!’’ 
he laughed. “Nobody bothers about me. 
Every one says ‘hullo Dutch,’ and I’m at 
peace with the world. Even Wentworth, who 
hates me because I’m chumming with you, has 
got to he pleasant because he owes me twenty- 
five dollars and is afraid I might try to 
collect. But you are the original Pickle!” 

lOS 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


Then he frowned. tell you we’ll have to 
get busy to fight that combination of Bullen 
and Wentworth, because they can make it 
mighty uncomfortable. There’s nothing like 
the persecution an upper classman can hand 
out to a Plebe, and Went has a big following 
in the class, too. But Bullen ’s reputation 
isn’t any perfume in the nose of the Disci- 
pline Department, that’s one comfort.” 

‘‘Well, what about my ratey friend 
Douglas?” 

“He must be 0 K at bottom, but he has the 
reputation of being the most unpopular man 
in the Academy. His class put him in Cov- 
entry third-class year, for reporting one of 
his classmates who wouldn’t take orders 
from him in section formation. It’s an un- 
written law here, you know, never to report 
a classmate, and that settled him.” 

“What’s Coventry?” 

“That’s what they call it when nobody 
speaks to you, except officially, not even your 
roommate. The class treats you like a leper, 
109 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

and the best thing a victim can do is to resign. 
Douglas didn’t resign, but I guess he never 
got over it even though at the end of the 
year the class took it back and told him they 
were sorry. I heard a lot about him last 
year at the boarding house, and he must have 
bats in his belfry. He won’t go to football 
practice to cheer the team, he won’t bet on 
any of the Army games, and — well, he’s what 
they call him, a ‘Rhino,’ a fellow that’s 
always growling. Only Douglas knocks 
things instead of people, and usually your 
pet ideas. That’s why he’s unpopular and 
a sort of hermit. Yet they say he’s the finest 
gym man the Academy ever had, and he’s 
been on the fencing team for three years. 
But he hasn’t a real chum in the place, so you 
won’t find him a fellow to pull wires for 
you!” And Zim laughed at the expression 
on his roommate’s face. 

“By George, I’m sorry for him then!” 
cried Dick, warmly. “He thinks I’m only a 
kid, but I wish I could be a friend to him. 

110 


AN ENEMY AND A FRIEND 


He sure did stand by me this afternoon in a 
way that I wonH forget in a hnrry!’’ 

^‘Remember that some time when he steps 
on yonr favorite corn!’^ chuckled Zim. 
‘‘He’ll do it as a religions duty.” 

“Never you mind, don’t you wish he had 
spooned on you!” retorted Dick, and then he 
referred again to his unpleasant interview 
with Wentworth. 

“That means,” said Zim, “that the Bilger 
got it in the neck from the Commandant 
about his line of talk to you, and he ’s made it 
^ out to Went that you tattled to the old boy. 
And of course he’ll say thajt to his gang to 
"give you a black eye.” 

“I seem to be sure of a black eye no mat- 
ter what happens, ’ ’ said Dick dolefully, look- 
^ing at his discolored eye in the glass. “You’d 
better get another roommate, Zim, you might 
v^atch one from me.” 


VII 

ON THE BUOY 


Not long after Wentworth’s disagreeable 
advice as to Dick’s resigning, the latter re- 
ceived a mysterious note from the hands of 
a ‘‘moke,” as the darkies are called who 
attend to cleaning the corridors. Dick read 
it aloud to Zim ; 

Richard C. Clinton, 4th Class; 

Report this evening, immediately after release call, at 
the east gunshed on the waterfront. 

“Here’s a crazy signature,” said Dick, 
knitting his brows, “Somebody ‘Lieutenant, 
U. S. N., for the Commandant of Midship- 
men,’ ” 

“The signature isn’t the only crazy thing 
about that letter,” observed Zim, after he 
also had failed to make a name out of the, 
112 


ON THE BUOY 


scrawl. ‘HUs a mighty queer thing to ask 
you to do. It may be somebody’s idea of a 
joke; but when it’s signed ‘Lieutenant, 
U. S. N., for the Commandant,’ a fellow 
would be leary of turning it down, especially 
a Plebe.” 

“Well,” ruminated Dick, twisting the 
paper thoughtfully round his fingers, “I 
guess I can stand running into a practical 
joke better than finding myself disobeying 
orders. I have to he walking on eggs any 
way round here to keep from busting a regu- 
lation or insulting somebody.” 

Dick revolved that strange order in his 
mind time and again that afternoon without 
getting any satisfactory solution. The 
“moke” had said distinctly, “From de 
Com’dant’s office, sah,” when Dick asked 
who gave it to him. And yet 

“Well, I’ll go, all right,” he laughed to his 
roommate, when the time arrived. 

“Better not wear your best blouse,” ad- 
vised Zim, “if ’tis an adventurous tryst I see 

113 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


thee keeping. Ah-h, don^t gug-go!’’ he sud- 
denly dropped into melodrama, clinging 
tragically to Dick’s ears, ‘‘yuh are me only 
che-ild, the mainstay of meh declining 
ye-ahs,” he sobbed. “I kennot let yuh go 
fr-rom meh. If yuh are sl-lain, I might have 
to — to — work!** 

^‘Cheese it, let go!’ laughed the other. 
“I’ll be late.” These little dramatic scenes 
on the part of Zim happened several times a 
day, but never too often to amuse his room- 
mate, for a first-rate comedian was lost when 
the boy from St. Louis entered the navy. 

Dick hurried out and down the broad steps 
of the terrace and cut across the parade 
ground' toward the gunshed that stood near 
the corner of the sea-wall where Severn 
Eiver became Chesapeake Bay. There was 
no moon, and the sky was heavy with the 
promise of a northeasterly rain. Having 
arrived at the shed, he peered vainly about in 
the darkness to find anyone who should meet 

114 


ON THE BUOY 


him. However, feeling that it was his duty 
to wait a few minutes anyway, he paced back 
and forth. Along the sea-wall itself were 
several steam launches that had been hauled 
up for repairs. 

‘‘Bum joke,” he muttered, “I^m going 
back to quarters.” 

“Not yet, Pewee,” said a disguised voice, 
so close to his elbow that he jumped, and a 
large figure with a middy’s black silk scarf 
tied across his face, stepped out of the 
shadows and seized Dick by his arms. This 
mysterious brigand was followed by two 
more, similarly disguised. The little Plebe 
knew that it was useless to resist, and 
stepped cheerfully along between two of 
them. Behind one of the launches they 
came to a little skilf that was bumping her 
nose gently against the sea-wall, and, follow- 
ing directions, he climbed in and sat on the 
bbttom. 

“I’m being hazed sure enough!” he re- 
115 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


fleeted, ‘‘but these fellows are more likely 
than I to get into trouble for it. I guess I 
can stand it.’’ 

Two of the kidnappers pulled at the oars, 
while the third steered with a broken oar 
over the stern. Without a word they rowed 
out till they had doubled the stern of the 
Hartford and then they turned up river. 

“Who are these fellows?” wondered the 
prisoner. “Wentworth isn’t in the bunch, 
I can see that. It would be too rotten if they 
let one Plebe haze another. But I’ll bet the 
captain of this gang is Bullen.” 

He scrutinized all that he could see of the 
man in question, but it was too dark to make 
out anything distinctive. 

“If it is Bullen,” reflected Dick, “he’ll 
do me dirt, I know that,” and for the first 
time his feeling of pleasurable excitement 
over an adventure gave way to something 
like dread. 

On went the little party in midstream be- 
tween the black sides of the Hartford and the 
116 


ON the buoy 

ghostly white hull of the Olympia and on up 
river. 

‘‘Where on earth and what on earth!’’ 
wondered Dick. But in a few minutes the 
helmsman swung the bow directly towards a 
huge red can-buoy used for mooring men-of- 
war. The bow oarsman caught the edge of 
the buoy and hauled the skiff alongside. 

“Get out!” growled the fellow facing the 
Plebe, at the same time giving him an un- 
pleasant little kick in the ribs to stir him out. 

“It’s the Bilger all right, that’s his figure 
and that’s his style,” thought Dick as he 
climbed out on the floating perch. “He^s 
going to get square with me!” 

The boat drifted off a few yards while the 
three conspirators held a whispered consul- 
tation. Evidently Bullen was proposing 
something which the others would not agree 
to. But the little Plebe on the buoy was un- 
able to make out a word. The fellow whom 
he had guessed to be Bullen finally swore at 
his companions in great disgust and, with a 
117 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

few strokes of the oar, palled back to the 
buoy. 

‘‘I’m goin’ to paddle him good, anyway,” 
he said loud enough for Dick to hear. “Now 
you,” he ordered, “get on your knees and 
hold on to the ring!” And he brandished 
the broken oar. 

“Take a feller your size!” grumbled the 
man in the stern who evidently didn’t relish 
the spectacle of an athletic fellow of twenty- 
three banging a small youngster of sixteen, 
no matter how obnoxious that youngster 
might be. 

“Shut up!” was the curt reply, and Bullen 
rose in the skiff to a kneeling position on the 
thwart, while the bow man steadied the boat 
by holding on to the edge of the buoy. Dick 
was half-sick with helpless rage, but he had 
to kneel as directed. However, he kept his 
head turned over his shoulder with an eye 
on his tormentor and measured the distance. 

“He’ll have to eat off the locker for a 
week after I get through with him,” chuckled 
118 


ON THE BUOY 


the Bilger as he raised the oar for a resoimd- 
ing whack. ^^And after this, Pewee, you^d 
better leave the Academy, or you’ll get 
worse!” 

Just as Bullen leaned forward to bring 
down the blow, Dick, grasping the ring of 
the buoy with both hands and crouching on 
his knees, suddenly flung himself backwards, 
at the same time shooting out his right leg 
like a catapult. It was a lucky shot. The 
nail-studded heel of his regulation shoe 
caught the Bilger on the chin with a crack 
like the sound of breaking wood. If he had 
been an inch nearer, probably the blow would 
have fractured his jaw. As it was, he sailed 
backwards over the side of the skitf and went 
sousing into the river. The skitf shipped a 
dangerous amount of water over the gun- 
wales and would have capsized but for the 
grip of the bow oarsman who clung desper- 
ately to the buoy. 

Dick instantly sprang to his feet. 

^‘Otf you go !” he cried, slamming the same 
lid 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

heel on the clinging fingers. With a yell of 
rage and pain the fellow let go, and Dick 
kicked the boat out and away. He then res- 
cued the broken oar before it floated beyond 
reach and stood ready to repel boarders. 

‘‘Come on, you!” he jeered. “All three at 
once, too!” And he waved his weapon de- 
fiantly. “You’d better fish Bullen aboard 
before he drowns !” he added, just to let them 
know that he had recognized their ringleader. 

The two left in the boat had their hands too 
full to pay any attention to Dick’s jeering re- 
marks. Their skiff was half full of water, 
and Bullen had come to the surface still un- 
conscious from the “hook to the jaw.” Any- 
one who has ever tried to haul on board a 
boat a heavy and helpless man can imagine 
how the two fellows struggled with Bullen. 
Finally one of them held on to the uncon- 
scious man’s collar to keep his nose above 
water, while the others baled for dear life. 
They took turns at this till the bulk of the 
120 


ON THE BUOY 


water was out, then, with the greatest diffi- 
culty, they dragged the Bilger aboard. 

By this time the boat had drifted out with 
the ebbing tide, and when they looked back 
at Dick, standing on his buoy like a miniature 
Colossus of Ehodes, and jeering at them, they 
hadn’t anything to say. They had had quite 
enough of the affair. Dick was quite able to 
repel any attack they could make and they 
knew it ; and though they would have liked to 
keel-haul the impudent little Plebe, they con- 
tented themselves with rowing back in silence 
to the gunshed. 

The few pattering raindrops that had 
fallen from time to time during the last half 
hour gave way now to a steady rain, and the 
wind was rising. Dick looked about him and 
reflected on his lot. He felt that he had come 
off pretty well in this hazing affair, but from 
now on it wasn’t going to be any fun at all. 
To spend an October night out on a buoy in 
midstream, in a pouring rain and with a 
121 


“PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 


northeast wind cutting through his wet 
clothes, was a long way from being a joke! 

He stamped up and down to start his circu- 
lation, and as he did so a wave broke clean 
across the buoy, sousing him half-way to the 
knees. Br-rrI That felt cold! Dick looked 
about him for some way out. There were the 
lights of Bancroft Hall directly ahead. 
‘‘Ta-ra-ra-ra!” the bugler began the familiar 
call that means ^‘all in and lights out.’* 

‘‘Taps busting,” said Dick to himself, “I’ll 
catch it anyway now, and those fellows will 
too, unless they manage to sneak in by a ter- 
race window.” Another wave broke over his 
feet. “But if I hang on here all night so as 
to be discovered in the morning and not get 
papped for demerits, the chances are that 
some gyrene* will have to blow taps over my 
little grave.” He shivered as a drop of rain- 
water rolled icily down his back. 

But there was no help in sight. The 


•Marine. 


122 


ON THE BUOY 


Olympia lay nearest of the group of vessels 
in the river, but she was still too far away 
to hail against that wind. Still farther away 
lay a torpedo-boat destroyer in a shoreward 
direction and to leeward, but there was no 
chance of attracting anybody’s attention on 
her decks a night like this even if Dick’s voice 
could have carried to such a distance. 

*‘It’s a case of swim for it.” 

Dick took off his shoes and after a brief 
debate with himself as to whether it was 
worth while to try to carry them, he decided 
to let them stay behind, and made the laces 
fast to the ring of the buoy. His Yankee 
thrift rebelled at the idea of wasting a new 
pair of shoes. Then, with a deep breath he 
slipped overboard and struck out for the 
nearest corner of the sea-wall. This was a 
place where the present wall had been built 
on the foundations of another that had gone 
to pieces, and he knew that he could find a 
good foothold for climbing out. 

The first shock was not so cold as he had 

123 


“ PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 


expected, for the water was warmer than the 
air, and after a few vigorous strokes he 
didn’t mind the temperature at all. Uncle 
Tom had taught him to swim before he was 
eight years old, and it was the one form of 
athletic sport he could do well. But it was 
no small stretch from the buoy to the wall, 
and, with his water-logged clothes, Dick was 
glad enough when his feet touched the rough 
stone slabs that gave him his first foothold. 

Then, after climbing upon the wall, he be- 
gan running for Quarters. A watchful 
‘^jimmy-legs”* overhauled him. 

“I know I’m late,” explained Dick. “I 
dropped overboard and I’m running to keep 
warm. ’ ’ He gave his name to the watchman 
and kept on. 

Naturally he was reported on his arrival 
at Quarters. And to his simple statement 
that he had dropped overboard, the division 
officer added mentally the note that Midship- 
man Clinton had come in without his shoes. 

* Watchman. 


124 


ON THE BUOY 


Moreover, when those very articles were dis- 
covered on the buoy next morning by the cox- 
swain of a boat from the Olympia, it was 
pretty clear what had happened to the Pewee, 
and the Department of Discipline began to 
reflect on the case. 

Meanwhile the two fellows, who had suc- 
ceeded in smuggling the Bilger into his room 
by means of the retreat previously arranged 
through a first classman’s window that 
opened on the terrace, began to be afraid of 
what might happen to that dashed little Plebe 
out on the buoy. This hazing scheme was the 
Bilger ’s business, not theirs, but if anything 
happened to the Pewee ! 

Much as they hated to do it, they turned 
back and rowed all the way to the buoy, for 
they knew that with such a wind and sea no 
one could be expected to stick on that buoy 
all night. When they came near enough to 
see that the buoy was deserted, they turned 
back and rowed for quarters as if they heard 
bloodhounds on their trail. Two terrified fig- 
125 


CLINTON, PLEBE 


ures crawled over a plank into the window 
where they had brought the Bilger a half 
hour before and slunk to their rooms. There 
was no sleep for them that night and no relief 
of mind till they saw the little Plebe himself 
next morning in his usual place at formation. 

Dick realized very soon that the compan- 
ions of the night before had evidently got 
back into Quarters unreported, and that no 
one would be any the wiser for the affair if 
all hands kept quiet. Accordingly he didn^t 
breathe a word of it except to his ^^wife,” 
who was delighted at the account Dick had 
given of himself. 

^‘I’m satisfied,’’ he laughed to Zim, ‘‘I 
didn’t get so much as a cold in the head from 
that swim. And Bullen, I hear, is in the hos- 
pital with a swollen jaw. He said something 
about my eating off the locker for a week; 
I guess he’ll take his meals through a glass 
tube for one while!” 

^‘Son,” reproved Zim solemnly, ‘‘I don’t 
like your braggadocio and unchristian spirit 
126 


ON THE BUOY 


of revenge. Furthermore, I have heard whis- 
pers about a court of inquiry about some- 
thing.’’ 

Dick’s cocky air suddenly vanished, for his 
heart sank at the idea of being hauled up 
before an inquisition, especially because he 
knew that if they wrung an admission out of 
him that he had recognized Bullen, the fel- 
lows would make small distinction between 
that and a deliberate tattle. He was already 
somewhat under the ban in the eyes of many 
of his classmates for “tattling to the Com- 
mandant about Bullen,” and he was mortally 
afraid of getting in still deeper. 

Most hazing episodes get into the papers 
because somebody “talks.” The rumor 
spreads to the type-setting machines in a 
jiffy, appearing later in a form so distorted 
as to be hardly recognizable, but highly 
diverting, nevertheless. Then all the papers 
in the land copy the story with frills of their 
own, till Congressmen who want to get 
noticed spread themselves in interviews and 
127 


‘‘ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

speeches on the ‘‘intolerable conditions in 
the Naval Academy.’’ But Zim was close- 
mouthed, and no one outside of these immedi- 
ately concerned and the officers of the Dis- 
cipline Department was “on.” 

When the nervous little Plebe was finally 
brought before the court of inquiry, he was 
lucky in facing three straightforward officers 
instead of a lawyer skilled in the art of worm- 
ing the truth out of an unwilling witness. 
Dick stuck to his story that the three hazers 
wore black scarfs tied over their faces, and 
that they always addressed him in a disguised 
voice. He carefully refrained from any 
allusion to his treatment of Bullen’s face. 

To his intense relief, he was allowed to go 
without having betrayed anything. Both he 
and Zim were called on to identify the 
“moke” who had brought Dick the letter 
ordering him to the gunshed, but that gentle- 
/^^an of color suddenly left town. The Com- 
mandant had suspected Bullen’s being the 
ringleader, on account of the affair of a short 
128 


ON THE BUOY 


time before, but Bullen swore to tbe court 
that he had been in his room all the evening, 
and in fact had hurt his jaw by slipping and 
striking the table exactly on the stroke of 
three bells (9.30). As he got his roommate 
to swear to the same statement, the court 
accepted the alibi. Anyhow, how could he 
have hurt his jaw like that while hazing a 
little Plebe? Impossible! 

So the atfair blew over and, thanks to Dick, 
Bullen was saved from dismissal. The one 
benefit that the Plebe got out of the inquiry 
was that, as it was clearly proved that he 
had been hazed, the demerits he had received 
for coming into Quarters late were struck off. 

When the Bilger appeared again, after five 
days in the hospital, Dick took a malicious 
delight in standing near him, as he passed, 
for the sake of grinning in his bruised face. 
Bullen nearly burst with fury at the imperti- 
nence, but he passed on without a word. 

After a week or two, when Zim calculated 
that it would be safe to do so, he spread the 

129 


9 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


tale of the adventure on the buoy to a few 
of his friends. Among a large number of his 
classmates the Pewee’s stock rose several 
points in consequence, but among others, who 
basked in the patronage of the ‘‘Eeal Sport, 
as Bullen liked to be called, the atfair worked 
the opposite way. The Bilger disseminated 
his lies as cleverly as a spiteful dressmaker, 
and he could have convinced his following 
of sporty Plebes that white was black or that 
the sun rose in the west. Wentworth ex- 
pressed their opinion when he remarked that 
this hazing atfair only proved that the Pewee 
^as a contemptible little chump. 


VIII 

THE ARMY GAME 


Thebe’s no cure like work for all sorts of 
troubles. Dick found that the pace of the 
Naval Academy was much faster, especially 
in Mathematics, than anything he had ever 
dreamed of in the High School, where he had 
stood number two in his class. 

‘‘That’s the same as being at the head of 
the class,” observed Zim; “there’s always a 
girl that stands number one, because, hang it 
all, girls don’t have anything to do but read 
love stories and go to the dressmaker, while a 
fellow has all kinds of important outside 
interests on his hands.” 

But Dick had a new sensation in realizing 
that there were in his class at the Academy 
at least fifty who were more “savvy” than 
he. Still, as far as comparison with his room- 
131 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


mate was concerned, he was a bright particu- 
lar star. In the slang of the Academy, Zim 
was wooden.’^ He floundered horribly in 
solid geometry, and his attempts to pro- 
nounce French drove old Professor de Laclos 
into a frenzy. Zim had good reason for 
blessing the day that he had asked Dick to 
he his roommate, for without the help of the 
Pewee he would never have “pulled sat’’ in 
any subject for a single week with the single 
exception of Mechanical Drawing, at which 
he shone. 

Wentworth, too, was wooden, and had all 
he could do to keep satisfactory and play 
football without wasting any time bothering 
the Pewee or learning poker from the Bilger. 

As Dick’s pile of demerits had put him on 
“third conduct grade,” he could not get out 
into town for a little change Saturdays and 
Sundays unless he “frenched,” that is, skip 
out of the yard without permission, and he 
had sense enough not to risk that. The addi- 
tional penalty if he were caught might have 

132 


,THE ARMY GAME 


been enough to recommend dismissal for 
‘‘inaptitude.’’ Zim used to laugh at him for 
refusing to french with him on a favorably 
dark evening, but secretly he wouldn’t have 
had him run the risk for anything. 

“Dick,” he told him once, “you’re one of 
those too innocent lads; you’d act so guilty 
that you’d get pinched beforehand as a sus- 
picious character if you started to swipe a 
cooky.” 

As it was, Zim more than made up for 
Dick’s help in his studies by standing be- 
tween him and the officers of the Academy 
law. At home Dick always had his aunts to 
pick up and tidy things, so he just dropped 
things where he finished with them. It came 
as a hard jolt to be held responsible for the 
looks of the room, and to have those looks 
correspond exactly with the commands of the 
Regulation Book. He found that he had to 
make his bed and sweep his room every day, 
and at first he hadn’t the faintest idea how 
either was done. The books on the top of the 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


locker had to he arranged in order according 
to the size of the book; the Regulations had 
to occupy the precise centre of the table, the 
shoes had to lie side by side under the foot 
of the bed — and so on. 

Zim, who was familiar with all these regu- 
lations before he entered, thanks to his uncle, 
and had a knack for keeping out of trouble 
anyway, was always on his friend’s tracks, 
pulling things to rights, calling his attention 
in the rough way of boys to the loose ends of 
his wardrobe, until Dick began to have a 
glimmering of the idea of what “shipshape” 
means. When two midshipmen have a 
room together, it is the rule for the two 
to alternate each week in being responsible 
for the condition of the room. A “name 
plate” is hung on the inside of the locker 
door, with a name on each side, which is sup- 
posed to be turned at the end of every week. 
For several weeks Zim kept the plate reading 
‘ ‘ Zimmerman, ’ ’ and more than once he quietly 
shouldered the responsibility and the de- 


134 


THE ARMY GAME 


merits for some disorder that was Dick’s 
fault, when the latter was out of the room 
and the inspecting officer unexpectedly looked 
in. Still, in spite of his roommate’s help, 
Dick found himself getting a demerit here 
and another there till his pile began to give 
him a good deal of worry. 

Zim, on the other hand, could knock seven 
bells” out of a regulation and not get re- 
ported for it. His specialty was frenching. 
At first he pretended that a beautiful young 
lady enjoyed his attentions on these evening 
excursions, but after awhile his chum discov- 
ered that the romantic knight had no other 
object than to visit the house where he had 
boarded as a candidate and fill his rotund 
person with chocolate tea cakes that his kind 
landlady made twice a week, largely for his 
benefit. When his little bluff about a romance 
had been exploded, he never failed to bring 
back one of these delicacies to his chum, stow- 
ing it inside his blouse in some miraculous 
fashion. (It must be explained that carrying 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


bundles in tbe yard is an offense punished 
by fifty demerits.) 

‘‘How in thunder do you do it without get- 
ting caught?’’ inquired Dick one» evening with 
his mouth half-full of one of these* trophies. 

“If you won’t breathe it or try to use my 
patent, I’ll remark that ’neath the wall be- 
hind the Chapel lies a slice of timber, to wit^ 
a board, not large enough to attract notice, 
but when leaned against the wall sufficient 
to hoist my Apollo-like form over into the 
back yard of one Herr Striibel, who plays 
the trombone in our band. He is a good 
friend of mine; last year he used to sing 
songs of the Fatherland with me, and he says 
I’m the only man in the Academy who pro- 
nounces the ii in his name correctly. As long 
as I don’t hit any of his rose bushes I’m wel- 
come, and he’s got a convenient packing box 
for me to land on.” 

“Well, while you were gone,” said Dick, 
“I put in recreation hour boning my 
math ” 


136 


THE ARMY GAME 


‘‘Ach du lieber! Don’t you know that it’s 
against tbe unwritten law of this place to 
study outside of study hours unless you are 
in real danger of bilging?” 

^‘Why?” 

‘‘Well, I know it isn’t considered square. 
Hold on now, don’t get mad. The idea is that 
you try to get ahead of your classmates by 
boning at a time when the rest of the crowd 
is having a hard-earned good time.” 

“Oh, piffle! Your unwritten laws make 
me tired. Let me tell you right now, if you 
don’t get busy you’ll be back in the brewery. 
You were unsat in two subjects last week, 
and pretty badly too.” 

“Oh, well, wait till next month; I’ll have 
the hang of the profs then and I’ll be sat 
every week. Speaking of bilging, don’t for- 
get to add up your demerits and bust out 
cryin’I” 

The matter of demerits was a sore point 
with Dick. He had written home about them, 
not realizing that his aunts would take them 
137 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

as evidence of really bad conduct. In reply, 
came a long letter from Aunt Hester, in which 
she was clearly of the opinion that her dear 
boy was going wrong. She had been opposed 
to the idea of the Naval Academy from the 
start, was it that Mr. Zimmerman that was 
leading him astray? (^‘Luckily I never let 
on that his father is a brewer!’’ thought 
Dick.) Was her boy failing in his religious 
duties now that he was in the worldly atmos- 
phere of the navy? And so on. Toward the 
end the tone changed, and she insinuated that 
those military bullies” were picking on her 
Dicky boy because he was young and inex- 
perienced and did not come from a navy 
family, and she wound up as affectionately 
as in the beginning she had been severe. As 
usual, in the end her heart triumphed over 
her sense of duty. What Dick minded worse 
was that she had evidently spoken to her pas- 
tor about him, for the next mail brought a 
long letter of preachments from the Eev. Mr. 
Ringgold, which made Dick rebel with a hot 

138 


THE ARMY GAME 


sense of injustice from his own home folks. 
He disliked the worthy pastor, for the reason 
that the latter was, while earnest and con- 
scientious, utterly lacking in knowledge of 
boy nature, and this sermon was a good deal 
of a dose. 

‘‘Suppose I do have forty demerits 
already,^’ he grumbled, “I’m not a jail- 
bird!” Then he began to he afraid of what 
Uncle Tom would write him, for the latter 
was famous among the members of the Maine 
bar for his powers of sarcasm, and Dick had 
often winced under them himself. The letter 
from the Rev. Mr. Ringgold was followed 
shortly by a familiar envelope bearing the 
stamp of Thos. D. Clinton, attorney-at-law, 
in the corner. 

“Dear Dick,” ran the letter, “I’m glad 
you wrote frankly about those demerits. I 
think I can explain them to your aunts. You 
are developing gump, as I hoped you would. 
Get on to the regulations, and stick it out 
there no matter what any Wentworth or 
139 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Bilger says or does to you. Uncle Tom.’* 
Inside the letter was a new ten-dollar bill ! 

This short letter did Dick a world of good. 
He had to put up with the unpleasant attitude 
of those of his classmates who took their cue 
from Wentworth or the Bilger, and they were 
rather numerous. He found it hard to make 
new friends on that account. One afternoon 
in the gym he asked his old antagonist Eior- 
dan about a point in boxing. 

‘‘Gowan, ye Pewee,” retorted the Irish- 
man, ‘‘I ain’t got nuthin’ to do with a feller 
that would make a whine to the Commandant 
’cause a first classman cussed him out, see?” 
Whereupon he turned on his heel and walked 
away. This was the version which the Bilger 
and Wentworth had spread in the minds of 
a large number of his class, that the Pewee 
had ‘‘tattled,” “whined,” “played baby” to 
the Commandant and they didn’t care to have 
anything to do with him. 

His new friend Douglas he found true to 
his word but very reserved, and seemed to 

140 


.THE ARMY GAME 


repel any advances made by the little Plebe. 
As Zim said, he was not a complimentary per- 
son. He took Dick on the gym floor to in- 
struct him in the elements of boxing, and 
took about all the conceit out of him the first 
day. Heretofore Dick had thought of his 
smallness as a misfortune, like a wart on the 
nose, but to be dismissed cheerfully. Most 
military geniuses had been entrusted to small 
bodies anyway; Napoleon, Nelson, Farragut, 
were all small men. But when Douglas grew 
eloquent over the Pewee’s small chest expan- 
sion, his slender muscles, his tendency to 
hang his head, etc., the boy ^‘got busy.’’ 
In addition to the boxing, Douglas pre- 
scribed for his pupil a set of gym exercises, 
which Dick went to work at as earnestly as if 
they had been ordered by the Secretary of 
the Navy. 

Meanwhile, Bullen was as annoying as he 
could be under the circumstances and hunted 
opportunities for getting the Pewee on the 
report. But as he was a ‘^clean-sleever,” 
141 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


that is, only a private in the brigade, he did 
not have many chances. Anyway, Dick was 
too healthy and busy a youngster to let small 
persecutions bother him, especially as Zim’s 
other friends in the class — and Zim was very 
popular — were friendly to him on Zim’s 
account. 

The busy weeks trotted by with one great 
excitement on each Saturday — the football 
game. Like almost every one else, Dick 
talked little but football “dope’’ outside of 
actual studying, reciting, and sleeping. West 
Point was well in the lead in the number of 
victories won in the Army-Navy series, and 
accounts in the Sunday papers indicated that 
the school on the Hudson was showing un- 
usual strength this year. The burning ques- 
tion was, would we — could we — develop a 
team that would manage to beat them? The 
conduct of each player, the good and weak 
points of any promising substitute were hotly 
discussed at every mess table and during 
recreation hours, and the coaches were alter- 

142 


THE ARMY GAME 


nately praised to the skies and cursed to the 
bottomless pit. 

Wentworth had made good from the start, 
once or twice he had been relegated to the 
scrubs because of overconfidence and a re- 
luctance to follow orders from the coach. 
Another Plebe, a broad-faced Swede from 
North Dakota, succeeded in capturing the 
position of centre, and of course all the 
Plebes swore that half a dozen more would 
be on the team were it not for the prejudice 
against the entering class. 

Shortly before the game it was announced 
that West Point had sent down an unusually 
large pool bet of $4000 to be covered by the 
midshipmen. The leaders among the first 
classmen issued the order that every man in 
the Academy should contribute five dollars 
toward covering this amount. For the week 
following talk was divided between the rival 
players on the rival teams and the betting 
odds. When Dick learned that West Point 
was the favorite in Philadelphia and New 

143 


«PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 

York at the odds of five to four, he asked 
innocently why the midshipmen hadn^t de- 
manded those odds. But he was instantly 
overwhelmed with scorn for not realizing the 
horrible disloyalty of admitting in an inter- 
academy bet that the chances were in favor 
of West Point. It was the first bet he had 
ever made, hut he made no demurrer about 
parting with his precious five dollars, though 
deep in his heart he never expected to see it 
again. West Point had beaten Yale that 
year! Never mind, a man must be loyal! 
Zim was very busy and important indeed. 
He was placing several large side bets on his 
own hook, and his uncle had written him 
from Guantanamo, commissioning him to 
place fifty dollars more on his account. 

‘‘There are just two men in this Academy 
who won’t put up a cent on the game,” said 
Zim to his chum as they were starting over 
again the endless talk over the Great Event. 
“They are both first classmen, and the class 
naturally don’t make any noise about it; but 

144 


iTHE ARMY GAME 


I overheard some of them ciissin’ and I knew 
from what they said who the fellows must he. ’ ’ 

‘‘Who — the Bilger for oneT’ inquired 
Dick. “He’s a tin horn sport.” 

“Bilger nuthinM He’s handling a lot of 
bets on the side. One’s the Y. M. C. A. presi- 
dent, old Peterson, the Gospel Shark, and 
the other is your dear friend the Rhino.” 

“Douglas?” 

“Yep. That just shows why he’s so un- 
popular. Always up to something like that. 
Don ’t let him convert you to doing stunts like 
that now!” 

That same afternoon Dick had an hour of 
boxing with Douglas. At the end he said : 

“I suppose you’ve pnt up your five dollars 
for the pool?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Accustomed to betting?” 

“No, sir. I thought of this not so much as 
a bet as a way of showing one’s loyalty to the 
Navy.” 

“Of course, that’s what they all say. Do 
10 145 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


you realize that this business of placing 
heavy bets on the Army-Navy game reduces 
it to the dirty level of prize fighting or a 
cocking main? Loyal! It suggests the very 
opposite. It means that West Pointers and 
Midshipmen haven’t sufficient interest in the 
game as a great athletic event between rival 
schools but they’ve got to have the excitement 
of making or losing money on it.” 

‘‘But the officers do it themselves,” pleaded 
Dick in justification, “and all college men 
bet on their big games.” 

“And that’s where they are all wrong. 
Some of them know it, but they find it easier 
to go with the crowd. It ’s unpopular to stand 
alone for your convictions.” Douglas grew 
morose as he spoke. “Copy what the others 
do,” he continued sarcastically, “and when 
you graduate you’ll have a personality like 
your uniform, cut according to regulation 
and not different from anybody else’s.” 

“Queer duck, all right,” thought Dick on 
his way to quarters. “I don’t see why he 

146 


THE ARMY GAME 


should get so sore on me because I put up 
my little five for the navy and he wouldn’t.’’ 
And he began to look upon his first classman 
friend as a sort of mild lunatic, in spite of the 
four stripes of rank on his sleeve. 

Finally the Great Day, the Saturday after 
Thanksgiving, arrived. When the bugle 
^‘busted” reveille that frosty morning, eight 
hundred pairs of feet flew out from the 
sheets and smacked on the floor with a sud- 
denness most unusual. Breakfast was 
treated as a necessary evil to be got out of 
the way as soon as possible. Then the entire 
brigade fell into formation, awaiting orders 
to march to the trains. Over their dark blue 
ulsters were slung blue and gold megaphones, 
and every man carried a navy banner on a 
small bamboo cane. 

^^Company-y-y, squads right, full step — 
march!’* bawled Dick’s company commander, 
repeating orders from Brigade and Battalion 
commanders, and away they marched 
through the yard out into the town, Dick’s 
147 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


first visit since he accumulated his pile of 
demerits. Knots of girls, waving navy ban- 
ners and adorned with gorgeous chrysanthe- 
mums, stood on every street comer smiling 
their prettiest on the midshipmen, and caus- 
ing every man of them to stiffen his spine, 
especially the company officers, who looked 
ahead of them with a very stem air indeed. 
As soon as the station was reached, the com- 
panies broke ranks and piled into the waiting 
cars, where, with discipline relaxed, the mid- 
dies laughed, cheered, and sang till the cars 
were filled and the long train pulled out on 
its journey to Philadelphia. 

All the way the cars fairly boiled over at 
the windows with the laughing, singing and 
cheering. All the way, except while ±he 
trains passed through Baltimore. 

‘‘Why this sudden quiet?” asked Dick as 
the cars approached the “Monumental 
City.” 

“Because,” replied Zim with the air of 
one who imparted elemental information, 

148 


THE ARMY GAME 


‘‘it’s bad luck. Every time the Brigade has 
cheered passing through Baltimore the Navy 
team has been beaten.” 

The rest of the three hours passed quickly, 
and then as the “sections” of the trains came 
in and unloaded their cargoes of midship- 
men, the latter hastily fell into line and then 
broke ranks for liberty till the game was 
called. Dick and Zim wandered about Phila- 
delphia together watching the gay crowds of 
army and navy partisans till time for lunch. 
The University of Pennsylvania, on whose 
gridiron the Army-Navy games are played, 
entertained cadets and middies at lunch in 
the gymnasium. There Zim and Dick hurried 
at the luncheon hour and enjoyed a rather 
scrambled but interesting meal. This was a 
case of grab and eat; but it gave a good 
opportunity for the gray and the blue to 
fraternize and jolly each other on the chances 
of the game. As Zim knew two or three of 
the West Pointers, Dick had a chance to meet 
the enemy at close range, and told his chum 

149 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


afterwards that lie thought the fellows from 
the Hudson were certainly fine chaps. 

Immediately after luncheon the crowds 
streamed toward Franklin Field. Just out- 
side the enclosure the entire brigade formed 
and then marched in, singing ‘‘Anchors 
Aweigh,^’ with the Naval Academy band in 
scarlet coats pounding away at the head of 
the procession. Bound the field they marched 
to the cheers and applause of the spectators. 
Then the navy goat was led capering round 
as a mascot, in tow of one of the cheer leaders 
who had his hands full in managing him. The 
next moment the dark blue mass surged up 
over the central block of seats on the North 
Stand. 

Hardly had Dick and Zim clambered into 
their places away up near the top row when 
they caught sight of a long, grey-coated 
column entering the field. This was the 
enemy! No more fraternal feelings now! 

As they marched in, singing their famous 
“Benny Havens,’’ with their band thumping 

150 


THE ARMY GAME 


and blaring at tbe bead of the line, all tbe 
South Stand, containing tbe army sympa- 
thizers, rose like a wave with cheers and a 
flutter of pennants. Dick’s spine tingled with 
thrills of excitement. And the middies were 
good sports, for they gave their opponents 
a hearty rattle of applause. Round the field 
swung the cadets with a highly decorated 
army mule to offset any luck that the navy, 
goat might have brought to the Annapolis 
team. 

Then for a few minutes there was a rollick- 
ing duel of songs between the opposing 
masses of gray and dark blue. Dick had 
conscientiously learned all the words of all 
the navy songs, and though his singing was 
not wonderful he served to prompt Zim, who 
had a splendid voice, but who had, of course, 
lost his song card. 

Suddenly in a pause some one piped up: 
^‘Here they come!” Dick couldn’t see over 
the heads of those who stood in front of him, 
but he knew without being told who ‘‘they” 
161 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


were. Instantly, all hands were whooping 
the ^‘Ponr N^^ yell, but they were not more 
than half-way through when from the oppo- 
site side of the field came Army! — Army! 
— Army!^^ telling that the West Point team 
also was trotting up on the gridiron. 

The usual preliminary hall-tossing and 
limbering up was run through, the captains 
met in the centre of the field and flipped 
the coin. In a few minutes the two teams 
were lined out, with the army captain swing- 
ing down on the ball for the kick-off. Swoop ! 
it sailed in the air, long, high and twisting, 
a beautiful kick, travelling fast before a high 
northwest wind. Dick’s heart went down 
before that sign of army prowess, but ‘‘Bug” 
Boothby caught it near the goal posts and 
advanced it ten yards. The game was on ! 

Cheer on cheer rolled out from one side 
or the other at the least excuse for encourage- 
ment or just on general principles. The 
straddling cheer leaders, perched on the 
fences that lined the gridiron, waved their 

152 


THE ARMY GAME 


arms like crazy windmills, working as if they 
thought that the whole fate of the game lay 
with them. 

Oh the torturing excitement of that first 
quarter! The navy seemed a little slow in 
waking up and the army backs were smashing 
through for gains, not long in any case, hut 
just enough to keep them slowly forging 
down the field toward the navy goal. On 
account of the strong wind an exchange of 
kicks always resulted in the army’s favor. 

‘ ‘ The Siren yell ! ’ ’ Dick heard the hoarse 
croak of the cheer leader and sprang to his 
feet with the rest. That most original of the 
navy yells is used as a last appeal from the 
anxious sympathizers on the bleachers: 

^ ‘ Hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-m/^.^ Hoo-oo-oo- 
oo-oo-oo-ochrah! I Hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo- 
eahII! NA^VEElir^ 

It seemed to do the work, for the navy line 
stiffened or else the advance weakened. Any- 
way, the cadets failed to make the necessary 
distance by runs. The fullback, relying on 

153 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

the wind, tried for a long drop-kick. As the 
ball left his toe the spectators rose to their 
feet. Ah, the ball dropped just short of the 
cross-bar! One great gusty sigh of relief 
rose from the navy side of the grandstand to 
meet another of disappointment from the 
army crowd. Then the whistle blew and the 
quarter was over. 

A few minutes of hurried buzz of discus- 
sion, then the game was on again. This time 
it was back and forth, back and forth, with 
neither side getting within striking distance. 
The wind died down so that it served no 
longer as a factor in the game. It was a 
wonderful battle. 

During the third quarter the miracle hap- 
pened. The army, lined up with the ball 
after a long navy punt, failed on the first 
try to circle left end. Then came a forward 
pass. Wentworth, who had played all along 
like a tiger, made a splendid leap for the ball, 
caught it, and with the mighty interference of 
his captain and the fullback, dashed across 
154 


THE ARMY GAME 


the intervening thirty yards and fell across 
the line. The whole North Stand went mad 
with joy. White-whiskered rear-admirals 
capered and pounded each other on the back, 
men and women, young and old, stood up and 
yelled for all they were worth, and the mass 
of midshipmen just blew up, shooting a great 
spray of caps high in the air. Down on the 
field the navy players simply fell on Went- 
worth ^s neck and hugged him. As the angle 
was a bad one, the navy failed to kick the 
goal, and the score stood 5-0. 

The army put up a fierce attack after this, 
but the quarter was called before any scoring 
was done. During the next and last quarter, 
the Army men laid out every ounce of their 
energy in an effort to score, while their 
opponents fought to keep the score as it stood. 
Once more the cadets steadily forced the mid- 
dies down the field to the danger point. Once 
more the siren yell. Again the army full- 
back attempted a kick, a place-kick this time. 
It was perfect, sailing squarely between the 

165 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


posts. Now it was the turn for the south 
stand to go wild. But the score was still 
5-3 in the navy^s favor, and in spite of the 
vigorous attack of the army that kept the 
navy men fighting desperately on the de- 
fensive and their friends anxious up to the 
last minute, the score remained the same 
when the whistle blew to end the game. 

At that the navy crowd went mad again. 
The middies boiled out of their seats on to 
the gridiron and formed a column that circled 
the field in the crazy “snake dance, caper- 
ing, cap-tossing, howling, singing hoarsely, 
and with the band in the lead trying to make 
itself heard above the rest. A stop before the 
army stand long enough to cheer their de- 
feated friends, and then thfe column broke 
ranks. On all hands Wentworth was the hero 
of the day. Dick tried to forget his dislike 
of the fellow, and had rah-rahed lustily every 
time his name had been called by the cheer 
leaders. It was glorious to win, too. But — 
if it had only been some one else I 

156 



WENTWORTH WAS THE HERO OF THE DAY 


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THE ARMY GAME 


‘‘He ^11 be worse than ever,” thought Dick 
as he and Zim sat silently together on the 
homeward trip, with not a shred of voice left 
to talk with against the clatter of the rails. 
He did not feel as happy as he expected to 
over a navy victory. Was it always going to 
be like this, that everything was to be spoiled 
by that chump ? Suppose it went on for three 
years more? Worse than that, he would 
always be running up against Wentworth 
throughout the entire naval career. What’s 
the use of the navy, anyway, with that kill- 
joy always on the job? Dark thoughts like 
these stirred still darker feelings in Dick’s 
mind while he lay curled up next to the car 
window, pretending to be asleep, as Zim was 
in good, snoring earnest. 

“Stick it out there, no matter what any 
Wentworth or Bilger says or does to you,” 
were Uncle Tom’s words. 

“Pshaw! Here I am thinking of chucking 
the navy just because Wentworth won the 
game! Fool Kid!” Dick smiled at himself 
157 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

and felt better. A few minutes later, under 
the monotonous clatter of the rails and the 
joggling of the cars, he followed his chum’s 
excellent example and forgot Wentworth 
completely. 


IX 

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


It was a glorious home-coming. The two 
friends awoke from their nap by the time 
the train rumbled over the Severn River 
bridge, and were wide-awake and ready for 
the triumphal march through the streets of 
Annapolis, the cheers in the Yard, and the 
ringing of the 800-year-old Buddhist bell that 
Commodore Perry brought from Japan, 
whose bronze tongue speaks only when West 
Point is humbled in the dust. It was 
glorious ! 

But everywhere and in everybody’s mouth 
was the shout for ‘‘Wentworth,” and no 
matter how proud and happy Dick was that 
his alma mater had won, he couldn’t fight 
down that old, ugly resentment over the fact 
that the man who for no sufficient reason had 


159 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


insulted him at first sight and then deliber- 
ately set out to be an enemy to him, should 
be the hero ! 

“Well,” croaked Conried as the two were 
turning in, “it was a great old day, wasn^t 
it?” 

“Great, you bet.” 

“But,” sighed Zim, with a comical grin, 
“the solar system will bust a button trying to 
hold Wentworth now ! ’ ’ 

The next evening — the team always spends 
the night after the game in Philadelphia — the 
whole brigade marched out with blazing 
brooms on their shoulders to greet the vic- 
torious team. Again there rose a rollicking 
chorus of cheers and songs, to the great scan- 
dal of the clergymen, whose Sunday evening 
congregations were demoralized thereby. 
Again it was the Four N yell for Wentworth 
chief of all, and it was he who was picked* up 
on enthusiastic shoulders and carried in 
triumph to the Yard. And he looked very 
much the hero, as even Dick had to admit, 
160 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 

with his graceful athletic figure and hand- 
some head, with the midshipman’s cap pushed 
back with studied carelessness just far 
enough to give his curly yellow pompadour a 
chance. On all sides girls were exclaiming 
that he was the Sweetest Thing ! 

When the procession reached the Yard, the 
enthusiastic middies who had dragged the two 
’buses, containing the football squad, all the 
way .from the station, hauled them round in 
front of Bancroft Hall. There a colossal bon- 
fire of wastebaskets was set ablaze, and there 
were more songs and cheers. The coaches 
and the players were called on for impromptu 
speeches till the warning notes of supper call. 
And every one declared that Wentworth made 
the best speech of the evening. 

‘‘Aw shucks!” said Dick resignedly when 
they were back in their room. “I don’t like 
him and he doesn’t like me, but he won the 
game-all right and I guess he earned all that’s 
coming to him. I ’m not knocking. ’ ’ 

Zim laughed, but it was the laugh of good 
11 161 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


fellowship and approval. ‘‘Yes, the class are 
all for him now, and what he says goes. That 
will make it harder for you and me, of course. 
There ^s no question hut that he’ll be our class 
president, and if there’s any other honor they 
can give him, he’ll get that, too. It’s a deuce 
of a while since a Plebe won a West Point 
game and the whole class is chesty about it.” 

All that Zim said was true, hut Wentworth 
was too busy enjoying himself as hero to pay 
any attention to the Pewee, and life for the 
latter trotted along at its usual quiet pace of 
studies, recitations, drills and recreation. 

“What you got on for this afternoon?’^ 
demanded Zim one Saturday after dinner, as 
he carefully shaved himself of very pale and 
largely imaginary hairs. 

“Well, I thought perhaps I’d ” 

“Never mind what you thought,” answered 
Zim, flipping his lather with a grand air. 
( Dick hadn ’t^hegun shaving yet. ) “ It ’s time 
you went round with me to Mrs. Winslow’s. 
She’s receiving Plehes this afternoon and she 


162 


INTRODUCTION JO SOCIETY 

asked me to bring you along. It’s high time 
you began to get groomed for society.” 

‘‘Ob, you la-de-da!” mocked Dick. “You 
want me to be a pretty parlor ornament for 
the girls to play with, I suppose.” 

“If I ever get you so you won’t queer 
yourself and me, too, I’ll be lucky, you packet 
of hayseed!” retorted Zim loftily. “You for- 
get, Kid, what an officer should never forget 
— and an officer’s wife never does — that when 
you’re in the ‘Service’ you’re in Society. If 
it wasn’t for the navy and army an awful 
bunch of bromides would never see a bridge 
party in their lives. That’s why the girls’ 
schools in Washington advertise Naval Acad- 
emy hops in their catalogues, ’ ’ continued Zim 
prancing daintily over to the locker for a 
fresh collar. “We are very ‘eligible.’ ” 

“You conceited chestnut-worm! Well, if 
I thought I was going to fool round much at 

pink teas ” began Dick with an air of 

insulted manhood. 

“One of these days your wife will make 

163 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


you,’’ replied the philosopher calmly. ‘‘The 
ladies eat ’em alive. Get busy now and find 
your dress jacket.” 

Dick reluctantly began to make ready. 

“Ever been to an afternoon tea before!” 

“No, thank heaven!” 

“Well, you look it. Now I’ll play Mrs. 
Winslow — right centre — and you make your 
entrance up stage there as the Eube from 
Maine. Just imagine that I present you to 
your hostess, and let me see how you can 
behave.” 

Dick, anxious to prove that he wasn’t 
such a country guy as Zim made out, cheer- 
fully agreed. At the signal, he entered the 
door. 

“Mrs. Winslow,” muttered Zim, “may I 
present my friend Mr. Clinton!” Then, 
changing his voice to a sweet soprano, he 
purred, ‘ ‘ Oh, Mr. Clinton, how terribly sweet 
of you to come! Elsie, dear, this is Mr. 
Clinton.” 


164 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


Pleased to meet began Dick as soon 

as he conld get his face straight. 

‘‘Dog-gone yon!’’ bellowed the social in- 
structor. “I just knew you’d say ‘pleased 
to meet you’! I suppose you think you’re 
back at a Methodist sociable in Skowhegan, 
huh?” 

“I’d a hang sight rather be there than at 
your blooming tea!” snorted Dick angrily. 
But he finally submitted to the tutoring with 
a decent grace for the fun of seeing Conried 
play Mrs. Winslow. As might be expected, 
the lesson in deportment was often inter- 
rupted by howls of laughter from Dick, and 
violent explosions of wrath from Zim. 

Finally the two set off for Lieutenant Wins- 
low’s quarters in Upshur Row, with Zim 
pouring into his friend’s ear society “don’ts” 
very few of which Dick could remember five 
minutes afterwards. 

At the door of the drawing-room Dick 
nearly “queered the whole game” as Zim 

165 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


hissed in his ear, hj starting to laugh when 
Mrs. Winslow — in exactly the same manner 
that Zim had mimicked — exclaimed that it 
was ‘Herrihly sweet’’ of Dick to come. How- 
ever, he smothered the laugh in his handker- 
chief and coughed two or three times to cover 
his retreat. 

Then Miss Elsie smiled prettily on him 
from under her aunt’s lee, and simply swept 
the little Plehe otf his feet by assuring him 
that it was “just dear^* of him to come 
around that afternoon. “Men hate teas, you 
know ! ’ ’ My, but she was pretty ! Dick found 
himself out-lying Ananias by insisting in 
jerky syllables that he had been very glad 
indeed to come with Zim. And then the con- 
versation flickered and died out, for Elsie 
looked absent-mindedly from time to time to- 
ward the door of the dining-room, and Dick 
couldn’t think of a thing to say. 

Meanwhile he overheard his hostess bucket- 
ing the soft soap on Zim, and was astonished 
to see that complacent rascal taking the com- 

165 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


pliments without a flush of embarrassment. 
Not much! He always had some complimen- 
tary ‘‘come-back” ready, and his eyes were 
twinkling as if he were enjoying a huge joke. 

“Jiminy, he’s a wonder!” sighed Dick 
enviously. 

Just then another squad of Plebes arrived, 
who also had to be presented to Miss Elsie, 
and Zim, grasping the dumb Pewee by the 
arm, led him away with a whispered, “Don’t 
block the passage at the door, you gawk!” 

As Dick cast one lingering, regretful look 
back at Elsie’s pretty blond head, he was 
shocked to hear her telling one of the new- 
comers — a very commonplace chap, too — how 
sweet he had been to come round that after- 
noon. And her aunt was plying the same 
slush-bucket compliments on somebody else, 
the same that he had heard her use on the 
incomparable Zim ! 

When Dick and Zim entered, the room was 
fairly well filled with their classmates, but so 
many of them were in Dick’s condition of 
167 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


paralyzed brain and tongue that the atmos- 
phere was rather funereal. Dick slipped off 
into the shade of a rubber plant, but Zim 
sailed in and stirred things. In a few minutes 
he had the crowd laughing and chattering. 
He told stories on the fellows, and jollied the 
girls, till Dick saw the hostess turn toward 
Zim with a expression of gratitude that was 
genuine. 

The next thing that Dick was conscious of 
was the thrilling fact that the lovely Miss 
Elsie was bearing down on him. His heart 
beat fast and his tongue clove to the roof of 
his mouth, but he was cut off from his convoy 
by a ring of girls and fellows. Oh, for Zim 
at his elbow! Oh, if he could only think of 
something to say! She was a queen ! 

Elsie, however, was primed and loaded. 

‘‘Wasn^t the army game simply grand? 

^‘Sure.” 

^‘Why, when Mr. Wentworth — mean 
when we got that touchdown — I thought I’d 
just die with j oy ! Didn ’t you ? ” 

163 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


Dick noticed that she had a very pretty 
color, but for the life of him he couldn’t think 
of anything to say. He cleared his throat 
and gulped. How in thunder did Zim do these 
things? Oh, for an inspiration! 

‘‘Isn’t it too lovely/* she gurgled on, “that 
a Plebe won the game? The upper classmen 
are so dreadfully conceited!” 

“Yes, indeed.” 

“And they say Mr. Wentworth. is so popu- 
lar, too!” 

“Do you like basket-hall?” Dick was so 
bent on getting the conversation away from 
that confounded Wentworth that he actually 
spoke four words in a string. 

‘ ‘ Just crazy about it ! ” Her eyes wandered 
again to the dining-room. “Now don’t you 
want to come into the dining-room and have 
something to eat?” 

“Certainly!” cried Dick right off the bat. 
Then he wondered with a hot blush if that 
didn’t sound impolite when so sweet a girl 
had been talking to him of her own. accord. 

169 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

SHe didn’t notice the remark, however, for 
she towed him as far as the portieres 
and hailed a waiter who was passing the 
provender. 

To Dick’s relief he saw that Zim stood 
near at hand doing a big business in cakes and 
ices and jollying two girls at the same time. 
But he was not so pleased to see in a far cor- 
ner that everlasting Wentworth graciously 
accepting the frank admiration of three 
pretty girls. When his eye met Dick’s, his 
face looked as if he had smelt something very 
unpleasant, and, excusing himself, he stalked 
grandly out of the room. But Dick didn’t let 
the incident spoil his appetite. If he wasn’t 
much on small talk, he could certainly punish 
the grub. Finally, after a square meal, Zim 
carried him off and got him out of the door. 

“Say,” remarked the Pewee, “I did pretty 
well, eh? You didn’t see me stepping on any- 
body’s dress or spilling chocolate on the 
rug!”i^ - 


170 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


‘‘ You snorted his chum pityingly. ‘‘You 
rube, your hands hung like hams in a 
butcher’s window. Your mouth wore a frozen 
grin all the time and your eyes looked scared 
to death. Every time a skirt spoke to you, 
you blushed as if you’d been caught stealing 
the spoons. You had about as much come- 
back in you as a mashed potato.” 

“Shucks! Who wants to be a lady’s man, 
anyway?” Then, after a pause, “Say, Miss 
Elsie’s mighty pretty, isn’t she?” 

“Aw well, I’d give her a 2.8.” 

“2.8? She rates a 4.0! Think of her 
hair, Zim, that real golden ” 

“Golden, perhaps, but not real. Most of it 
came from the department store, specially 
those wormy things on the back of her head.” 

“I don’t believe it!” Dick was indignant. 

“If you had a sister, Dick, you wouldn’t 
be such a fool. You are just the kind of a 
trusting lobster that marries a gold brick 
the minute he graduates.” 

171 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Dick wondered what his English professor 
would say to that for a ‘‘mixed metaphor,'^ 
and inquired what a gold brick was. 

“Did you see that faded remnant with the 
jimmy jaw and the leather face who poured 
chocolate! She’s one. She’s rounded the 
Cape of Good Hope, all right. Lots of ’em 
like that come down here, and a hostess is 
up against it to know what to do with ’em. 
The game is to feed up a bunch of fellows in 
advance and make one of them promise to 
take to the next hop, ‘my cousin, Miss Smith 
— a very sweet girl — coming down for a few 
days from Philadelphia.’ Then, if he’s inno- 
cent enough, he may even get roped to the 
altar. Lots of ’em do, mostly rough-necks 
that never saw a woman out of a calico wrap- 
per before they came here.” 

“Gee hut you’re high and mighty!” 
sneered Dick. “How many proposals have 
you had this season! Anybody ’d think the 
women were all after you with bloodhounds * ” 

172 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


Dick had old-fashioned notions about “chiv- 
alry” and his tone was very sarcastic. 

“Well, IVe been behind the scenes and I 
know, ’ ^ answered the cynic. ‘ ‘ Let me put you 
wise right now. Society is only a match-mak- 
ing institution, and iUs founded mostly on 
shams.” 

Dick recollected those purring compliments 
from Mrs. Winslow and said nothing. 

“Now, Mrs. Winslow’s game is very sim- 
ple. She gives it out that she ‘just loves to 
have young people around,’ but what she is 
really doing is to get all these Plebes, whom 
nobody looks at now, her devoted friends. 
Later, when Elsie is ‘out,’ they’ll be sure to 
give her a good rush; and by the time we 
graduate she’ll be engaged to somebody in 
the class. Then she’ll be married into the 
navy and safely off her aunt’s hands, see?” 

Engaged! Dick thrilled at the idea. He 
had been pretty hard hit. Suppose he were 
the lucky man! “Well, I’m not for the 
173 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

society game then,’^ he said with emphasis. 
‘‘If it’s such a farce, what’s the use?” 

“If you’re on, you can have a lot of fun 
and not get caught,” laughed the cynic; 
“that’s me.” 

“Shucks! Some girl must have given you 
the frosty mitt. I’ll bet you’re jealous be- 
cause Miss Elsie didn’t come up and speak 
to you as she did to me.” Dick was bluffing 
grandly. “What would you say if I told you 
that I was invited there to Sunday dinner?’^ 

“I’d say you were a liar, my dear Gaston. 
I saw Mrs. Winslow send Elsie to you be- 
cause you looked so forlorn under that rubber 
plant. Don’t you know anyway that she’s 
dotty about Wentworth? He goes there 
almost every Sunday. Didn’t you see her 
face when she came in the door and saw those 
other girls with him? She could have killed 
’em by slow torture!” 

Ouch! That deadly pang of jealousy! So 
that’s why she would rattle on so about Went- 
worth ! Zim grinned in a heartless manner at 

174 


INTRODUCTION TO SOCIETY 


the wound he had made. Dick turned his hack 
on his friend and ground his teeth. Always 
that confounded Wentworth! ‘^No matter 
where I turn in this plaqe I bump hard against 
that slob,” he thought angrily. He flung out 
of the door, paying no heed to Zim^s jeers, 
and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to 
forget his murderous inclinations in the 
cheerful pages of “Puck.” In fact, it was 
nearly four days before the scar on his deeply 
wounded heart was quite healed. 


X 

PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


Dick soon had his chance to get it back on 
his chum for all the latter’s superiority in 
social etiquette. 

“Look here, you!” he called to the careless 
Zim one evening as he was getting ready to 
go out in town, “ cut out your trenching to- 
night and bone. You’re on the tree again in 
three subjects, and you’re going to bilge at 
Semi-Ans, if you don’t take a big brace.” 

“Oh, I’ll be all right,” he answered with 
the usual confidence, “I’m not getting a 
square deal just now, that’s all. You know 
my mathematic professor is Belloc, his father 
was a frog-eating Frenchman, and of course 
he and the French professor are down on me 
because of my grandfather.” 

“Grandfather? Didn’t you mean to say 

176 . 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


‘my uncle’f’’ (Zim had by this time been 
pretty well teased out of referring to his 
uncle.) 

‘‘Don’t you try to he fresh, now, you’re 
not big enough ! My grandfather was colonel 
of artillery at Gravelotte — the artillery that 
played the deuce with that charge of the 
French cavalry, you know.” Zim cocked his 
head proudly. “I let on once about him, and 
I suppose these Frenchmen heard about it. 
Wait till we change instructors and I get 
somebody that ’s fair. I ’ll show you ! ’ ’ 

“Huh!” snorted Dick, “you’re plain 
wooden, that’s all, and lazy on top of that!” 

The change of instructors came at the end 
of the month, and as Zim’s averages did not 
rise as rapidly as he had prophesied, he was 
finally compelled to forego many of his 
frenching trips and stay “boning” with his 
roommate instead, as he had been advised to 
do, in order to keep off the “Christmas tree.” 
Dick’s “I told you so !” was cruelly emphatic. 

When a midshipman is repo;rted as unsatis- 
177 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


factory in a study at the end of a week, he 
is said to he ‘‘on the tree’’ or to “hit the 
tree/^ When his name appears on the list of 
those who are warned on account of being 
unsatisfactory at the time of the December 
examinations, he is said to be on the “Christ- 
mas tree/’ 

It is a danger signal for bilging, and happy- 
go-lucky Zim had at last sat up and taken 
notice. He suddenly became very humble 
and grateful. Dick lorded it over him, but 
no teacher of the deaf and blind ever spent 
more patience to the square inch than he did 
over his careless and wooden roommate. 
Zim never had learned to study in the first 
place, and, spurred by the terror of bilging, 
began to learn how for the first time. Dick 
found, too, that the effort of trying to make 
things clear to Zim made him a better master 
of those lessons himself, and his own aver- 
ages went up, too. 

During this time he made only one deliber- 

178 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


ate break of the regulations and that was at 
the suggestion of his chum. 

‘‘Look here, Pewee,” he urged from time 
to time, “why don’t you ‘fume’! Don’t be 
such a blamed mollycoddle. Everybody 
smokes; there aren’t half a dozen men in the 
Academy that don’t. And I’ll bet your Uncle 
Tom does. It’s only sissies and ministers 
that don’t burn the weed.” 

To be called a mollycoddle or a prig was 
a touchy point with Dick and he made up his 
mind that he’d show ’em. It was not hard 
to “steal a fume” on Dick’s floor, where there 
were a number of vacant rooms, moderately 
safe from inspection, and Dick was becoming 
almost proficient in the manly art of rolling 
a cigarette when Douglas one day smelled 
Bull Durham on his young friend’s breath. 

“You are on the report for evidences of 
using tobacco,” he said sternly, “and I want 
to see you in my room right after drill.” 

Dick thought it was pretty rank for the old 

179 


« PE WEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Rhino to him like that, and he would 

have resented the order to appear if he had 
dared, for he had other plans for that hour 
after drill. But a first classman’s word is 
law and Dick meekly appeared as directed. 

‘‘Now,” said Douglas without ceremony, 
“I want to talk straight goods to you. I’m 
mightily disappointed to find out that you are 
taking to tobacco, because you are a fool to 
do it. You think it makes you manly, eh ^ 
Look at yourself, you narrow-chested, five- 
foot-nothing, spindle-legged insect. Why, if 
you want to look manly, your business is to 
work up that Pewee shape of yours into 
something respectable, and you won’t do it 
smoking. 

“Furthermore, it makes me tired to see you 
so lacking in backbone. As I told you before, 
you think you must do as other people do 
because you aren’t brave enough to be differ- 
ent. You know the Y. M. C. A. president, 
‘Gospel’ Peterson! Most fellows sneer at 
him because he’s an old-time Methodist who 
180 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


is all the time trying to ‘save their souls/ 
He honestly thinks that they’ll go to an ever- 
lasting hot hell if they aren’t ‘saved,’ and 
he’s brave enough to act up to his convictions. 
I’m not of his opinions, but I respect him 
more than any other man in this Academy, be- 
cause he’s not afraid of being laughed at, 
or of being called ‘queer’ or unpopular, so 
long as he is doing what he believes is right. 
You know that you are a fool to smoke, but 
you’re ashamed not to. Either give me your 
word now to cut it out or you needn’t call on 
me again in the gym, I can tell you that.” 

Dick hesitated; he felt a mixture of all 
kinds of feelings at this “Dutch uncle” inter- 
view, but finally he said, “I cut it out, sir.” 

“Good!” exclaimed the other, his face 
lighting with one of his unusual smiles and 
his hand extended in friendship, “now beat 
it!” 

Dick never reported this interview to his 
chum, but explained his quitting the weed on 
the ground of demerits. 

181 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

There is no Christmas vacation at the 
Naval Academy; the best one can look for- 
ward to is the day itself, which is an unre- 
stricted holiday for all, regardless of de- 
merits, and a freedom from drills during the 
week between Christmas and New Yearns. 
One feature of the holiday Dick looked for- 
ward to with eager interest and that was the 
annual frolic of the first classmen, together 
with the special privileges allowed the down- 
trodden Plebes. Just as the slaves in Eome 
were allowed the upper hand once a year dur- 
ing the ‘‘ Saturnalia, so the Plebes have 
their innings on Christmas day. 

On Christmas eve Dick was approached by 
the ‘‘five-striper,’’ Mayhew, the football cap- 
tain and cadet commander of the brigade, 
who gave him a mysterious order in a sepul- 
chral whisper that fairly made his head swim. 
Then before taps hand-bills were passed 
through all the corridors, advertising in 
scarehead type, “Startling, Stunning, Stu- 
pendous Spectacle” of freaks and wonders 
182 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


gathered from all parts of the world at the 
cost of billions of bullion and billows of 
blood!’’ due to appear the following morning. 

The rising bugle ‘‘busts” at 6.30, but on 
Christmas morning everybody’s alarm clock 
slam-banged at six, and the bugler might have 
saved himself the trouble. It was dark and 
cold, but Dick and Conried were scrambling 
into their clothes like boys running to a fire. 
They were not a minute out of their beds be- 
fore they heard on the deck below a confused 
uproar which they knew to be the first class- 
men falling in for their “P-rade.” By the 
time the boys got their heads outside the door 
they could hear the crowd tramping through 
the corridor below, bawling : 

There’s one wide river, there’s one wide river to cro-oss I 

There’s one wide river, there’s one wide river to cross I 

A song that has somehow become sacred to 
the first classmen on Christmas morning. 
Suddenly the singing was broken oif by the 
class yell. Boom, bang! Evidently several 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


pieces of the Naval Academy Band had been 
bribed to leave their beds and contribute 
music to the occasion. And now the proces- 
sion came, stamping, and whooping their 
hymn up to the corridor above. 

It was a racket to shake the granite walls 
of Bancroft Hall, but for a wonder no officer- 
in-charge stuck out his head to bellow ‘‘Pipe 
down ! ’ ’ and put everybody on the report for 
“creating a disturbance.” Not to-day! 
thought Dick with a chuckle. Last night 
those fellows would have been reported if 
the tags on their shoelaces had been frazzled. 
Now they came dressed as Indians, ballet 
girls, cowboys, bandits, frogs, chanticleers, 
Nicaraguan generals, — everything imagin- 
able, — not forgetting Santa Claus (the class 
president) who wagged his hoary beard at the 
head of the procession. 

After every deck in Bancroft Hall had 
resounded with the class yell, he led his fol- 
lowers out into the yard, and the rest of the 

184 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


Academy, especially the Plehes, trooped be- 
hind to watch their antics. 

It was a chilly morning, with snow on the 
ground and more dropping on the hare collar- 
bones of the ballet ‘‘girls,” but all hands 
went rollicking across the yard to give the 
Superintendent and the Commandant a cheer 
and a Merry Christmas. Then they disap- 
peared into the Armory to hold private revel 
round a huge class Christmas tree. 

All this was nuts to Dick after the stern 
tyranny of the Regulation book, and he was 
anticipating more fun on his own hook. Soon 
came the call for breakfast formation. 
Shortly before this the first classmen had 
been scampering back to quarters to get into 
uniform, but when the formation took place 
it had a queer look. The first classmen 
had changed blouses with the Plehes. The 
former now stood in the humble ranks of the 
latter, and the Plebes were now the officers 
of the brigade. Each company was com- 
185 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


manded by the smallest Plebe in the company, 
and in front of the brigade stood the smallest 
Plebe of all — the Pewee ! 

Here was the chance for the down-trodden 
worms to turn, to get square for the months 
of ‘‘bracing’’ and “cussing-out” that they 
had silently and meekly endured, and every 
little Plebe officer was doing his best to “run” 
the upper classmen. The real brigade com- 
mander, Mayhew, came slouching along in 
Dick’s blouse-— which refused to meet any- 
where in front and left about five inches of 
wrist visible on each arm — and with his cap 
cocked over his eye. At the same time Dick 
was standing somewhere inside of Mayhew ’s 
coat, with his hands lost to the finger tips. 
But he had not forgotten that first day when 
Mayhew joshed him about his football record. 

“Shake a leg there!” he shouted. “You 
are reported for unmilitary bearing. Pick 
that cap off your ear and set it where it 
belongs!” 


186 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 


“Aye, aye, sir,” answered tlie first class- 
man meekly. 

Dick had to remember Bughouse Boothby, 
too. “Wipe that silly smile off your face!^’ 
he cried, pointing at the grinning Boothby. 
“If you can smile like a human being, do it 
once and pass it on to Rhino Douglas ! ’ ’ 

Douglas, who was looking on with a rather 
bored air, flushed with surprise and embar- 
rassment and grinned. At this unusual spec- 
tacle his classmates set up a howl of laughter. 

Dick then spied his enemy, the Bilger. 
“Down with your elbows, Bullen, shake those 
cards out of your sleeves and ’’ but no- 

body ever knew how the Pewee was going to 
finish that remark for such a howl of ohs 
and whoops of derision burst out that noth- 
ing could have been heard. The Bilger was 
evidently hit hard, for he cursed under his 
breath and looked black as a thunder cloud 
for a second, and then made a dismal effort 
to grin. 


187 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


While Dick was getting in his licks, the 
company commanders were keeping up a 
scattering fire on their victims. Then Dick 
summoned the adjutant, one of the brightest 
fellows in the class, who read the conduct 
report and the orders for the day. Strange 
to say, all the offenders were first classmen, 
and their misdemeanors included strange 
offenses like ‘‘boxing the compass without 
gloves.’’ The report over, “Squads left and 
right!” Dick shouted, and the brigade 
marched off to breakfast. 

After breakfast things settled down more 
nearly to their usual level, but there were the 
packages of Christmas presents and eatables 
to be seen and sampled in all the rooms of 
one’s friends, and the whole day free to do 
exactly as one pleased. All the privileges 
forbidden by custom to the Plebes were this 
day theirs. Every one of them made it a 
point to swagger through the “short cut” to 
quarters, rest their arms on the mess table. 


188 


PLEBE CHRISTMAS 

use the forbidden stairs, and break at least a 
handful of minor regulations without mishap. 

Douglas passed Dick after dinner as he 
and Zim were going out in town to the 
‘‘show.’’ 

“Thou didst well, my son,” said he sol- 
emnly, “saving thy ill-timed jest on me, for 
which I will repay thee anon. As for Bullen, 
verily thou didst smite him hip and thigh.” 
And he went on without cracking a smile. 

“He’s a funny Ike,” remarked Conried. 
“Say, but you certainly did put the hooks 
into the Bilger ! What everybody says about 
him on the QT is that he cheats, and that’s 
why your josh about the cards up his sleeve 
was such a hot one. I’m afraid he won’t 
forgive you in a hurry. Especially after your 
carelessness in kicking him on the jaw that 
time.” And Zim’s plump sides shook with 
his chuckles. 

“Well, I’m glad I got it back at him 
again,” laughed Dick, as the two entered the 

189 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


theatre, Let’s forget him; here’s where you 
get your money out for moving mellow- 
drammer.” Soon they were waiting for the 
curtain to rise on the troubles of “Bessie, 
the Beautiful Boiler-maker.” 


XI 

THE MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


Dick soon discovered that his public ‘‘rag- 
ging’’ of the Bilger seemed to be less resented 
by that individual than by his follower, Went- 
worth, who gave it out that the Pewee was 
blanked, malodorously “ratey.” And as 
Wentworth had now a long string of hench- 
men who basked in his glory and echoed all 
his sayings, it was not long before this state- 
ment of the case came to Dick’s ears. 

“By George,” he groaned to Zim, “I can’t 
sneeze around here without offending some- 
body, especially that tin god Wentworth. 
Didn’t I have a perfect right to roast the 
Bilger?” 

Conried grinned. “Sure. The trouble is 
that you hit the bull’seye and hit it hard. 
If Bullen doesn’t cheat in poker, there’s a 

191 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


whole lot of fellows in this place who are 
off their hearings. Wentworth is hot-airing 
round now because, though he himself was 
getting a bit skittish about the Bilger’s game 
a few weeks ago, he thinks now that the fellow 
must be sure enough honest because Bullen 
has let him get ahead awhile. Went may be 
a football hero, but he certainly is the prize 
sucker.’^ 

“It isn’t customary to roast a first class- 
man so hard, they tell me,” frowned the 
other. 

“You bet it ain’t. That’s where your nat- 
ural outfit of gall comes in,” laughed Zim. 

“Hanged if I care!” replied Dick. “Bul- 
len is a rotten egg, and I only wish I had 
smashed him worse.” 

It was not long after Christmas before the 
shadow of “semi-ans” streaked across the 
Academy, and in the minds of many quite 
blotted out the joy of living. The best upper- 
class talent was mustered to save the wooden 
Wentworth by daily and nightly coaching. 

192 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


Zim also groaned and sweated during most 
of his recreation periods over his math, 
Dago (French), and English, in all of which 
subjects he stood dangerously; near un- 
satisfactory. 

Under a ruling of the Academic Board, 
those whose term averages were as high as 
3.0 (on a basis of 4.0) were excused from 
examination and Dick had no examination 
to dread in anything but his mathematics. 

For that matter most of his classmates 
were on the anxious seat there too, but an 
unfeeling instructor had marked him down 
close to unsat for the month of December, 
and he knew that the semi-ans always operate 
to push a man’s averages a good deal lower. 
In fact, he got so worried that he gave up 
two fine skating afternoons to bone mathe- 
matics, and he loved to do his fancy loops and 
grape vines better than anything else. One 
hour of each day Dick devoted to the punch- 
ing bag and the swimming pool, while Zim 
took his recreation and exercise in frenching, 
193 


13 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

because he said that was the most diverting 
sport he knew of and it didn^t take much 
time. The rest of their recreation hours the 
two boys put on their books. 

A few days before the dreaded week of 
semi-ans began Conried burst into the room 
with a whirl. 

‘‘Dick, our lives are saved! Whoop de 
addy de aye!’’ 

“Why this noisesomeness?” asked Dick, 
astonished to see his plump friend spinning 
ballet steps round the study table. 

Zim struck a dramatic attitude. “Listen, 
my children, and you shall hear, 

“Of the nigger’s pants and their words of 
cheer. Whoop de addy de aye ! ’ ’ 

“Pants? Avast, I will souse the bugs in 
your binnacle!” and Dick reached for the 
water pitcher. 

“Hold!” and Zim just saved himself from 
a wetting. “’Tis thusly. Wentworth — oh, 
why have you and I knocked him before? — 
paid one of the mess-boys — ^who is a friend of 

194 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


one of the mokes in the mathematics depart- 
ment — to sit on the neostyle in his white duck 
working pants, when no one was looking, 
savvy. And then covered it up with a long 
coat so that no one caught on afterwards. 
Said neostyle was printing the semi-an exam 
questions, you understand*? Wentworth got 
the pants long enough to copy off the ques- 
tions, and then, instead of keeping them to 
himself he called in the fellows this afternoon 
right after drill, and everybody’s got a copy 
of the questions. Whoop de addy de aye!” 
and Zim cavorted again, waving the precious 
document over his head. ‘‘After all, old 
Went isn’t so had, eh?” 

He stopped and looked astonished. Dick 
didn’t seem enthusiastic. He was eyeing the 
floor and seemed very much embarrassed. 

“Great Scott, have you gone bug? This is 
a nice reward I get for ” He did not fin- 

ish his sentence but stood frowning at his 
roommate. Meanwhile Dick had been think- 
ing very hard. He had an uneasy feeling 

195 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


about the thing anyway, and he couldn’t get 
rid of that statement of Douglas, ‘‘You must 
do as other people do because you’re not 
brave enough to be different.” 

The very fact that it was so much easier 
now to go with the crowd than not to, sud- 
denly made Dick feel that if he did it would 
be on account of weakness and cowardice. 
“I’ll bilge first!” he said to himself, and 
drew a long breath. 

“I’m awfully obliged,” he said slowly, 
scratching at the desk with a pencil, “but I’d 
rather not see those questions.” 

Zim whistled with astonishment. “You 
are crazy. Why, man, that exam is a hun- 
dred times stiffer than I thought those math 
people would dare to make it. You can never 
make more than 1.0 on it in the world. Those 
original probs are the limit! It took a savvy 
second classman an hour and a half to work 
them out for Wentworth. You can’t touch 
’em! What’s the matter, anyway!” 

196 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


Dick was silent for a minute before he 
answered, “Nuthin^” 

‘‘I know what’s the matter,” exclaimed 
Zim indignantly, ‘‘you think it isn’t honest, 
you think it’s gouging,* I suppose. Looky 
here, if it’s gouging, everybody that takes the 
exam will be gouging but you, and we aren’t 
gougers by a long shot!” 

Zim was getting hot with indignation 
against his roommate for the first time in 
the history of their friendship. “I tell you,” 
he went on, “it’s that confounded mollycod- 
dle, Sunday-School priggishness of yours 
that your Uncle Tom is trying to have 
knocked out of you and that will make you 
simply impossible as a naval officer. My 
gracious, when my uncle was here, in the 
days of the old buildings, a fellow crawled 
into the study window of one of the profs 
on a long board and got an exam paper that 
saved a lot of fine fellows from bilging who 


•Cheating. 


197 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


are now in the service. And no one was any 
the worse for it. Yon aren’t taking an un- 
fair advantage over your classmates, because 
they all have an equal whack at the questions, 
don’t you seef That isn’t gouging, it’s play- 
ing a good joke on the math department, 
that’s all.” 

Dick was still silent. He got up while Zim 
was talking and stood by the window looking 
out on the court below. 

‘‘Well,” continued Zim testily, “if you bust 
in math, it’s your fault. Your kind of virtue 
is its own reward, all right.” 

Dick turned round. “See here, Zim,” he 
said quietly, “don’t you go back on me now. 
You’re the only real friend I have in the class. 
Can’t you let me have my own way? If I’m 
a fool, it doesn’t hurt you any, or anybody 
else, now does it?” 

Zim tramped up and down the room for a 
minute. He couldn’t help thinking of the 
amount of time Dick took from his own math 
to shove him along in Dago and English. In 

198 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


fact, it was liis very fondness for the Pewee 
that lay at the bottom of his anger. Sud- 
denly he swung around impulsively and 
grabbed his friend’s shoulders. 

‘‘You’re a dog-gone, bull-headed, crazy 
loon of a Pewee, but you can be as crazy as 
you please !” And he banged out of the door 
to enjoy things with some of his more jubi- 
lant classmates. 

Dick had made the decision, but he didn’t 
feel as happy as the man of virtue does in 
story books. Left to himself, he figured out 
the chilly prospects. The whole class had 
been unusually low in mathematics, and it 
had been the “dope” that the department 
wouldn’t have the nerve to put up a list of 
75 or 100 “unsats” at the end of a term, but 
would probably scale all the marks up. Now 
if all the men who had to take the examination 
hit a ripping high mark to boost their term 
averages, there wouldn’t be any need of scal- 
ing marks up, and Dick would undoubtedly 
be unsat for the term. He wouldn ’t be bilged 


199 


«PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 


just for one unsat subject, but it would be 
mighty hard to make that good before June, 
and if he didn’t, why good-by to the naval 
career and back to Skowhegan ! 

‘‘Nothing doing except to bone harder,” 
he soliloquized, and he picked the detested 
trigonometry off the shelf. Then he squared 
his elbows, adjusted his eye shade, pulled off 
his collar and settled down to business. 

In a few days it leaked out that the Pewee 
had refused to see the questions, and the 
general verdict of the class was that he was 
‘ ‘ bug. ’ ’ W en twor th, as usual, expres sed him- 
self fluently on the matter. According to 
him, the Pewee was “putting on to be better 
than anybody else,” and trying to cast a slur 
on Wentworth because he had been respon- 
sible for getting* the questions. Of course, his 
followers echoed this and Dick was not only 
Pewee but “Deacon,” “Holy Dicky,” “Par- 
son Pewee,” or “Pope Pious the Punk.” 
Though Zim couldn’t see the matter as Dick 
did, he sturdily talked back at the others, for 
200 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


loyalty to a friend was to him a sacred 
principle. 

In a day or so Dick was surprised to be 
accosted by Zeke Miller, one of bis classmates 
whom be bad known by sight but never 
spoken to. He was, as Zim bad explained, a 
‘‘rough-neck” from the Arkansas bank of the 
Mississippi; and he was one of those long, 
lean, sallow, black-haired fellows who look 
as if they bad bad malaria four generations 
before they were born. He was so green that 
at first be had been ridiculed to death, but 
after be bad fought two or three of bis biggest 
tormentors, nobody cared to trifle with him 
any further and he was left severely alone. 
All that bis class knew about him was that be 
was a mathematics wonder, and that be regu- 
larly appeared at Y. M. C. A. meetings, and 
was spooned on by old Gospel Peterson. 

“Mistab Clinton,” be began in a rather 
embarrassed and oratorical way, and looking 
down from a height of six feet two on the 
Pewee, “ah hyud sub, that yo ain’t lookin’ 
201 


« PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 


at the exam questions in math, an’ ah jes’ 
want to say, suh, ah’d like to shake yo’ 
hand.” Dick instantly lost his little fist in 
the huge muscular paw extended towards 
him. He didn’t know what to say and felt 
rather uncomfortable, but this was better 
than ‘^Pope Pious the Punk.” 

‘‘Mah granpap ’lowed that no Yankee hed 
a sense of honah, suh, but ah’m glad to know 
times hev changed!” Here the solemn lan- 
tern jaw cracked with a grin. ‘‘An’ ah 
wanted to say,” he went on, “ah’d be glad 
to help yo’ on these hyah math probs.” 

“By George, if you will, you’ll deserve the 
Carnegie medal! Will you, honest ? Here 
was a genuine ray of hope. Every month 
Miller had stood number one in math, being 
one of those born mathematicians who seem 
to take every formula as a matter of course. 
Imagine being coached by the W onder ! “ I ’ll 
bat that exam yet!” thought Dick. Then a 
happy inspiration hit him. 

“You’ve got to take the English exam, 
202 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 

haven T you ? ’ ’ Dick remembered seeing Mil- 
ler ’s name rather frequently on the ‘‘tree’’ 
in English. 

“Yes, ah reckon ah ’ll bilge in that!” he 
drawled dolefully. “All these hyuh profs 
over yondah air Yankees, an’ ah cain’t get 
the hang of their sacred Boston dialect like 
they expect me to. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Suppose we turn about, then, ’ ’ suggested 
Dick. “After you’ve given me an hour in 
math. I’ll give you one in Hill’s rhetoric. 
I’ve coached my roommate now so that he 
will make a good mark in any exam they 
give him.” 

“Ah’m yo’ man!” agreed Miller heartily, 
and he gave his hand so impulsively that Dick 
felt his fingers afterwards to see if any bones 
were broken. 

So the work progressed. Miller was a tre- 
mendous help to Dick, and vice versa. Dick 
soon discovered that Miller was a sort of 
Abraham Lincoln type, who had great natural 
ability but no advantages whatever. His re- 
203 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


markable mind was constantly hampered by 
his lack of schooling. This was specially true 
of English, for the fearful mistakes that he 
made in grammar were to him the only nat- 
ural way of speaking or writing, and how 
he had managed to squeak past the entrance 
examination was a mystery. 

With Zim in French and Miller in English, 
Dick found his time occupied whenever he 
got away from his own mathematics ; but he 
swore that he learned more math from Miller 
than from all his instructors together. Things 
that had been mere parrot repetitions became 
more understandable than he dreamed they 
ever could be. And Miller, too, who was sen- 
sitive and reticent in classroom, picked up 
“Yankee language’’ very well from Dick. 
Zim occasionally chaffed his roommate about 
his “rough-neck” friend, but made no further 
reference to the coming math exam and the 
questions. 

Finally Semi-Annual Week arrived. Zim 
had to take examinations in everything but 

204 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


mechanical drawing, and was really in such 
danger that Dick loyally neglected his own 
math to help his despairing roommate. To- 
ward the end came the examination in mathe- 
matics. Here was one that, with a single 
exception, those who had to take were not 
afraid of. The sections marched to the 
Academic Building with ill-suppressed grins. 
Everything had been answered, hut by care- 
ful arrangement, every man was ordered to 
“bust” on certain points, which were so dis- 
tributed as not to arouse suspicion. 

Dick alone was anxious. Eagerly he 
slipped into his seat in the examination room 
and scanned the paper. Je-m-salem! it was 
stiff all right, as Zim had said. But, as he 
went to work and felt less nervous. Miller’s 
coaching stood him in good stead. Several 
things that looked impossible at first came 
to him after a while, and he dug away at it 
without looking up for an hour and a half. 
Then, as he drew a long breath and looked 
around at his classmates, he had to smile at 


205 


‘‘ PJEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


their clever acting. Wentworth had coached 
them all to look worried to death and not to 
write too fast. Wentworth, himself, to set 
the pace, was putting on the most realistic 
expression of despair and fiercely gnawing 
the end of his pencil. 

Then Dick went to work again and didnT 
stop till the room was cleared for the twenty- 
minute recess. He sought out Zim and began, 
‘‘Say that was pretty stiff, but 

“Oh, Lord, it’s all over!” groaned the 
other, and then Dick’s astonished eye saw his 
fellow-classmates in all attitudes of very real 
misery, clenching their fists and cursing 
bitterly. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“What’s the matter? Oh, you’re the only 
one in this bunch to need that explained. 
They gave us a different exam, see? And 
that bunch of fellows hot-airing and rowing 
over there are asking for an explanation from 
Wentworth. ’ ’ 

Dick felt so much like laughing that he had 
206 


MATHEMATICS EXAMINATION 


to make a big effort to keep it down in the 
presence of Zim’s despair. 

‘^Oh, well, they can’t bilge half the class,” 
he said encouragingly, ‘‘Cheer up, I guess 
you’ve got a lot of company in misery. I 
may be with you anyway I ’ ’ 

The second half of the examination Dick 
got away with rather better than the first, 
and he would have been greatly pleased with 
himself except for his worry over the plight 
of his chum. During the second half a large 
number simply gave up in despair, and at 
least half an hour before the end left their 
papers and marched in doleful squads back 
to quarters. Consternation reigned in the 
ranks of the wooden ones that night, nor did 
it help the popularity of the Pewee when the 
rumor went the rounds that he had “batted” 
the examination — and was the only one who 
did! 

Dick and his chum sat talking it over. For 
the thousandth time Zim wondered how 
“they” had caught on to the “pinching” of 

207 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


tlie questions, and as often Dick vowed that 
he’d be hanged if he could guess. 

‘‘Well,” he concluded, “let’s put the rest 
of this p.m. on to-morrow’s Dago exam. If 
you can pull sat in that, you’ll be down in only 
one subject, and they won’t bilge you for 
that.” 

“All right,” said Zim resignedly, “let’s 
sling the spaghetti; it’s my last hope!” 

Long after taps Zim was chanting irregular 
verbs into Dick’s ears till the latter dropped 
to sleep and Zim forlornly took to his pillow 
also. 


XII 

COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 


It was Saturday of Semi- Annual week. On 
the day before Zim had weathered his French 
examination with very fair success, thanks 
to the coaching of his roommate, and he would 
have been quite cheerful except for his math, 
in which he knew he had ^ ‘ busted cold. ’ ^ But 
for that matter so had every one else who 
had to take the exam except Dick. The two 
friends were talking it over during the in- 
terim between drill and lunch hour, when 
some one came to the door and called Zim 
into the corridor. He was out several minutes 
and when he returned he looked very solenm. 

‘‘Dick,’’ said he, “you don’t know how the 
exam paper got changed, do you?” 

“Not any more than you do. You don’t 

14 209 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

suppose that I^d tattle about it, do you?” 
Dick’s eyes snapped angrily. 

“No, I don’t, old man, and I apologize for 
insulting you by the question,” answered Zim, 
“but a lot of people do, I’m afraid.” 

“Why should they!” cried the other, leap- 
ing to his feet and slamming his book on the 
table. “By George, it isn’t enough that they 
knock me for what I do, they’ve got to make 
up what I don’t do as well. It’s Wentworth 
at the bottom of it again, I suppose?” 

“Well, he says that the moke that he got 
the questions from came to him last night 
and offered to tell him the reason for the 
change in that exam paper for five dollars 
and on condition that his name shouldn’t be 
told. Wentworth paid the coon, and he 
handed out a yam that he overheard you talk- 
ing on the avenue with Lieutenant Eichard- 
son of the math department, and overheard 
you say that the exam had been swiped.” 

“It’s a dirty lie of Wentworth’s own mak- 
210 


COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 


ing!” shouted Dick. ‘‘When did he say all 
this happened?’’ 

“A week ago Tuesday, about half-past 
five.” 

“By George, I did talk with old Richie that 
day,” said Dick after reflection. “He stopped 
me to ask how I was getting along in my 
math, and I just said that I was trying to 
make up for my woodenness by boning, and I 
hoped he wouldn’t stick too many original 
prohs on the exam. That’s every bit I said. 
He laughed, looked at me in a funny way and 
gave me a jolly about hoping I’d weather it, 
and passed on.” 

“Well, I don’t think Wentworth is a liar, 
and of course I believe you, old man. The 
trouble lies with that nigger. I’ll have to get 
busy. Dr. Watson,” he added with a grin. 
“I was always thought to resemble William 
Gillette as Sherlock Holmes. ’ ’ Here he rolled 
back his sleeves, pretended to give himself 
a hypodermic injection of cocaine, and stalked 
211 


« PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 


out of the door. Zim was such a mimic that, 
though Dick wasn’t feeling very happy, he 
had to laugh in spite of himself. 

Zim went straight to Wentworth, whom he 
found boiling with fury. 

“He’s a liar!” he shouted, after Zim had 
told him of his friend’s denial. “I don’t 
believe a word of it. He owns up to talking 
with Bichardson, doesn’t he? Well, you bet 
he let on enough for old Eichie to catch on!” 

“He’s no liar, you overgrown slob!” re- 
torted Zim, trembling with rage, “and no man 
can say so and have anything to do with me ! ” 

“Who wants to?” was the jeering response. 

“Aw Dutchy, get out!” chorused the crowd 
of Wentworth’s followers. “The Pewee is 
a sneak anyway,” piped up one of them near 
the door. 

“By Jiminy, you’ll take that back!” 
shouted Zim. ‘‘You are my size!” and he 
knocked him over a chair. Just then the 
officer-in-charge was heard coming by on 
his tour of inspection, and the riot came to a 


212 


COVENTRY AND ,THE PEWEE 


sudden end. Zim went out into the corridor, 
feeling tenderly of his bruised knuckles and 
very red and out of breath. 

‘‘Made a mess of it,’^ he said to himself 
with a frown. “I didn’t get the name of the 
nigger, and got Went and his crowd as sore 
on me as they are on poor old Pewee. 0 
Lordy ! Somebody kick me ! ’ ’ 

Whatever mistake Zim made in his first 
step he tried to make amends for afterwards. 
He soon got wind of a class meeting at which 
the Pewee was to be “put in Coventry. ’ ’ Now 
to be put in Coventry is the worst punish- 
ment that a midshipman can suffer at the 
hands of his class, and there have been few 
who have been able to stick it out without 
resigning. As Zim expected that Wentworth 
would try to do this, he was not unprepared. 

“I’ll have to get busy!” he told himself, 
and he did with a will. 

Fortunately, there was no chance of a 
meeting before recreation hour Monday, and 
there was more available time Sunday than 


213 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

kny otter day for politics. “Dutchy^^ was 
well liked by a large number of bis class, for 
be bad a very attractive personality and made 
friends without trying. He was also a good 
talker and knew bow to approach different 
sorts of fellows. But he bad against him 
all the prestige of Wentworth, the hero of the 
Army game, and all the soreness of the men 
who had failed in the examination, and it was 
a big job to tackle. There were, however, a 
number of fellows who were tired of Went- 
worth ^s domineering ways and resented his 
taking for granted the idea that he was to be 
the leader of the class in everything. Zim 
played on this string like a true politician, 
and several who more than half believed that 
the Pewee might have at least accidentally 
‘‘let on’’ about the stolen paper swore that 
they’d vote against Wentworth anyhow. 

On Monday morning the word was formally 
passed that there would be a class meeting to 
sit on the case of the Pewee. Already Dick 
had noticed the contemptuous and unrecog- 
214 


COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 

nizing look of many of his class who before 
now had always nodded pleasantly, or called 
‘‘Hullo, Pewee!’’ when they met. Naturally, 
he felt sore. 

“Wait here, awhile,” said Zim to his chum 
who sat staring moodily out of the window. 
For some minutes Zim had been nervously 
pulling out his watch as he noticed the near- 
ness of the appointed hour. “I Ve got a date 
with some of the fellows for a little while.” 

‘ ‘ I know, old man. ’ ’ Zim started ; evidently 
Dick had overheard some of the talk. 

“Well,” said Conried, pulling himself to- 
gether with an air of cock-sureness which 
he was far from feeling, “you just bet on 
your Uncle Dudley, and donT worry.” He 
banged out of the door and hurried to the 
Recreation Hall, where the meeting was to 
be held. 

It was a session that the class of 19- will 
long remember. Wentworth took the chair as 
a matter of course and called the meeting to 
order. He was “given a hand” by his fol- 
215 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


lowers as soon as he made his appearance. 
Without preliminary, he went straight to the 
story of the exam paper. He reminded the 
class of the risk he had run in getting a dupli- 
cate of the questions and of the fact that he 
had shared the copy with all hands. Then 
came the awful shock of the examination it- 
self, which he said might yet bilge half the 
class. 

‘‘And who did the dirty trick? That 
double-dashed little Pewee, who had already 
made himself unworthy of the class by whin- 
ing to the Commandant, as you all know.” 
Then followed the story of the negro mess 
boy who told of hearing the Pewee on a cer- 
tain afternoon tattle about the stolen exam. 
And the Pewee had to admit that he was 
talking with old Eichie that very afternoon. 
A storm of hisses broke forth as Wentworth 
finished the story of the Pewee ’s crime. 

“What I want to say is,” he continued, 
raising his hand for silence, “that a sneak 
like him has no place in this Academy and 
216 


COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 


in our class. The only thing to do— the only 
thing we can do — is to put him in Coventry 
and hope to the Lord that he’ll resign soon.” 

‘ ‘ Sure ! Put the vote I ’ ’ came from various 
parts of the room. 

‘‘Hold on, fellows, keep your shirts on!” 
cried a voice, and the rest turned to recognize 
Dutchy Zimmerman standing on a chair. 
“Just let me have the floor a minute!” and 
the few attempts to groan him down were 
hissed into silence, for as we have said, Zim 
was popular. 

Ignoring Wentworth, he turned his back on 
the Chair and spoke directly at the crowd. 
“Of course,” he went on, “you fellows know 
I’m Clinton’s friend and roommate. Now I 
guess a roommate knows a fellow better than 
anyone else. If the Pewee was a chump I’d 
vote him in Coventry as quick as the rest. 
But,” here his voice rose, “I know he’s the 
squarest chap I ever ran up against, and all 
I ask of you fellows is to give him a square 
deal. Some mysterious nigger, whose name 
217 


‘‘ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

Wentwortli promised not to tell, worked him 
for five dollars by telling this yarn. I tell 
you right now, a fellow that would refuse 
to use the swiped exam wouldn’t tattle about 
it, believe me, nor a fellow who spent more 
than half his recreation time coaching me in 
English and Dago. Now I know he didn’t do 
it, and I don’t want you to do the man the 
worst injustice you can have in your power 
for anybody’s blanked nigger yarn. And,” 
he added, looking at Wentworth for the first 
time, ‘‘I tell you. Went, this class has got 
minds of its own, and isn’t going to put into 
Coventry everybody that you happen to get 
sour on.” He sat down perspiring but 
hopeful. 

“Dutchy” had friends to clap his speech, 
too, and it was clear that he was crafty in 
touching on the undercurrent of hostility to 
Wentworth’s cool assumption of leadership. 
Hardly had Zim taken his seat when the class 
were astonished to see the lanky form of 
218 



“ANY MAN WHO PUTS MAH FRIEND CLINTON IN COVENTRY KIN PUT 

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COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 


Miller, the Math-Fiend, towering in the rear 
of the room. Others were on their feet but 
sat down as Wentworth announced patron- 
izingly, ‘‘Mr. Miller has the floor.’’ 

The Math-Fiend raised his big fist in the 
air, his eyes flashed, and he said: 

“Any man who puts mah friend Clinton in 
Coventry kin put me thar too ! Ah doan know 
what yo-all kin be thinkin’ on, especially you 
fellows from God’s country of Dixie” — here 
all the southerners stamped and yelled — “to 
be willin’ to take a niggah’s word second- 
hand as against a white gentleman with 
proved ideas of honah ! ” 

At this there was a mingled chorus of jeers 
and applause. Several of Wentworth’s 
henchmen sprang to their feet, all speaking 
at once. Cries of “Shut up!” “Give him a 
chance!” “Cheese it!” arose from Zim and 
his friends, in the midst of which the solemn 
Miller was pawing the air in wild indigna- 
tion, unable to make himself heard. Then 

219 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

Wentworth jumped on a table and added his 
shouts in a frantic attempt to bring the meet- 
ing to order. 

‘‘Put the vote!’^ cried some of the Went- 
worth faction. The Chairman took the hint. 

“All in favor of putting the Pewee in 
Coventry say aye ! ’ ’ he bawled, using a sheet 
of music from the top of the piano as a 
megaphone. 

“Aye!’’ roared his followers. 

“No, no!” yelled the others. 

“The vote is carried!” announced the 
Chair. 

“Naw, gowan!” shrieked Zim, “carried 
nuthin’! Count the votes!” But here a 
pandemonium broke loose that Wentworth 
was powerless to stop, and several healthy 
little quarrels broke out in various parts of 
the room. He got out of the situation at last 
by waving his hand with a shout of “Ad- 
journed!” and jumped down from his perch 
red with anger. 


220 


COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 


As a meeting for putting the Pewee in Cov- 
entry it was not a shining success, and it 
showed, too, that Wentworth’s power over his 
classmates had been rather overestimated, 
especially by himself. 

On the other hand, Zim was well satisfied 
with the results of his trouble. He had de- 
veloped enough opposition to make a Coven- 
try impossible. Hitherto he had regarded 
the Math-Fiend as merely the ‘‘Rough- 
Neck,” but after the meeting he sought him 
out and took him by the hand. 

“Miller, you are a good, long piece of 
OK!” 

The other bowed with clumsy solemnity, as 
if Zim had handed him his card, and walked 
away without a word. Zim was afraid he had 
acted a bit snobbishly toward Miller, but now 
he had a curious sensation of having been 
snubbed himself. 

Meanwhile Dick had held his position at 
the window, looking out with unseeing eyes 
221 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


across the inner court to the row of windows 
opposite. All he saw was Failure. He had 
had a fearful dose of ridicule and injustice 
since he entered, and as the class would prob- 
ably do anything to please their football hero, 
Coventry would be the climax. The more he 
thought the more miserable he felt — almost 
tearful in fact. He wasn’t going to spend 
four years in Coventry, either ; a fellow might 
stick it out one year, but not four. No, sir, 
he’d go back home, where a fellow could get 
a square deal ! Hang the navy anyway ! He 
began to plan the wording of his resignation. 

Just then the noise in the corridor told him 
that the class meeting must be over. The 
Pewee hastily pulled himself together so that 
Zim should not see him giving way to any 
undignified weakness. He glanced in the 
glass to see if his eyes looked at all red, 
straightened his collar, assumed a look of dig- 
nified resolution, and opened a book. In 
burst Zim with more than his customary 
violence. 


222 


COVENTRY AND THE PEWEE 

‘‘Here, cut it out, you look like a fifty- 
dollar funeral! Too bad you weren’t at the 
meeting,” he added casually. “Grand time. 
Went got up and hot-aired about you in his 
usual kindly way. Then I made a brilliant 
and captivating speech, and would you believe 
it — ^your friend the Rough-Neck got up and 
orated so well that the class meeting became 
one, long, sweet roughhouse and busted up.” 

“You mean they didn’t ” 

“Naw, they didn’t. We put it over Went- 
worth all right. His little political steam- 
roller’s in a ditch. In fact,” here he put on 
one of his ridiculous poses, tapping his chest 
grandiloquently, “7 done it with my little 
hatchet — and Miller. We make a hot team, 
eh ? Whoop ! ‘ W altz me around again Willy, 
a-round, a-round, a-roundl’ ” 

Zim had a mortal fear that Dick would try 
to express his gratitude, and the Pewee began 
to look mushy and blinky as the fact dawned 
on him that his chum had killed the Coventry 
223 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

plot and smashed the Wentworth machine for 
his sake. So with a Don’t let my feet touch 
the ground!” Zim grappled with his room- 
mate and ‘‘rassled” him all over the chairs, 
the table and the lockers to restore their nor- 
mal manly relations. 


XIII 

ZIM PLANS A FEAST 


After the affair of the class meeting Dich 
would have been ashamed even to think of 
resigning; but although he wasn’t actually; 
in Coventry, he found the situation almost as 
bad. Wentworth’s crowd cut him to a man, 
and, what was worse, a number of upper 
classmen, like Boothby, who had taken enough 
of a friendly interest in the little Plebe to 
nod a greeting when they passed him, were 
now stone-blind as far as the Pewee was 
concerned. 

Nor were matters improved when the semi- 
annual report was posted, and the Academic 
Board made its decisions as to the fate of 
those who were ‘‘unsat.” It was clear that 
the marks of the fateful exam had been 
scaled up,’’ otherwise half the class would. 

225 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


have been found hopelessly deficient in mathe- 
matics. Under the scaling process Dick re- 
ceived a term mark .8 higher than that of 
any other man who took the examination. 
That fact did not make any of the failures 
feel more kindly toward the Pewee, especially 
as many of them had to realize the dreadful 
fact that they were ‘‘bilged.’^ 

Wentworth, of course, was unsatisfactory 
in mathematics, but held over. Zim, too, who 
had been in mortal anguish about his own 
fate, though he said nothing to his discon- 
solate roommate, was much relieved to find 
that his mark was high enough to hold him 
over also. But before the third week in Feb- 
ruary thirty-five of the class had mournfully 
tendered their resignations to the Secretary 
of the Navy and, dressed once more in their 
accursed ‘‘cits,’^ taken the cars for home. 
Among them Wentworth lost some of his 
most faithful followers, and of course he laid 
the entire blame for their fate upon the shoul- 
ders of the Pewee. And he was so furious 


226 


ZIM PLANS A feast: 

over the way Zimmerman had blocked his 
attempt to rush a Coventry vote through the 
class that he ceased to speak to that plump 
politician when he met him. 

What hurt Dick more than anything else 
was an incident in which a girl was concerned. 

After that first tea at Mrs. Winslow’s in 
the fall, Dick had held off from society for 
several weeks. But under Zim’s repeated 
urgings he had called again at the same place 
two or three times with his chum. Finally he 
confessed to Zim that he thought himself a 
‘‘social lemon” and refused to go any more. 
He announced that he was a “red Mike”* 
and that was all there was to it. 

He had met at the Winslow’s, however, 
another girl — a little one — the sort that didn’t 
make him conscious of his own smallness. 
She was a great friend of Elsie ’s and also on 
the verge of “coming out.” Her name was 
Phoebe, a sweet name Dick thought, and just 


*One who avoids feminine society. 


227 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


the sort of girl he would like to take to a hop 
sometime next year. (Wentworth could have 
that pert Elsie and welcome!) 

As vile luck would have it, Phoebe and 
Elsie came sauntering down the avenue, arm 
in arm, one afternoon about a week after that 
miserable examination affair. When they 
saw him coming, they put their heads together 
and buzzed for a few minutes. Dick looked 
up furtively as he passed them, but oh, 
misery! They pointed their pretty little 
noses high in air, and seemed to be very much 
interested in something about five miles away. 

Dick felt so cut up that he sneaked home, 
looking as if he had committed all the crimes 
on the police calendar. After that he had a 
chip on his shoulder and cultivated a grouch. 
While he was in this humor he wrote his 
Uncle Tom, unburdening his heart, and got 
this reply: “Dear Dick, I don’t like the whine 
in your letter. Buck up, or don’t write me 
any more. Uncle Tom.” 


228 


ZIM PLANS A FEAST 


Zim was on the other side of the study table 
when Dick read this characteristic letter. 
The latter looked sheepish. 

“I hope your uncle told you to cut out your 
grouch/’ observed Zim; ‘‘you’re getting so 
punk that I’m going to hand in a request to 
change my room. ’ ’ 

Dick grumbled rather impatiently and went 
out to take a turn in the gym. He felt that 
his best friends might be a little more sympa- 
thetic ! In the corridor he met Douglas. Dick 
looked round for a means of escape, but saw 
none. He made it a principle to avoid meet- 
ing everybody now, and as he hadn’t seen 
the Ehino since the examination atfair, he 
took it for granted that even Douglas had 
gone back on him. 

“Halt!” Dick’s heels clicked together obe- 
diently. Douglas looked him over critically 
and his eyes twinkled. 

“Report to my room at once!” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” Dick hated the idea of 

229 


« PEWEE ’’ CLINTON, PLEBE 


giving np a plunge in the pool for another 
curtain lecture from the Ehino, but he 
couldn’t disobey. 

‘‘Well,” said Douglas cordially when the 
two were seated with no one in earshot, “I 
just wanted to tell you that I know Went- 
worth’s yarn about your giving away the 
exam steal is poppycock, and that I’m still 
spooning on you. ’ ’ Dick’s sullen face cleared 
instantly. “And I’m going to talk to you 
confidentially as I haven’t talked even to any 
member of my class, because I think you’ll 
feel better when I tell you that I have been 
in a good deal worse box than you and I 
am still in the ring. You didn’t know it per- 
haps, but during my youngster [second] year 
I was actually in Coventry because I reported 
a classmate. I ordered him to quit making 
a rumpus in the section I was in charge of, 
I warned him that I’d report him if he kept it 
up, and he dared me to do it by tripping up 
the man in front of him. You know it was 
against what they called the ‘code’ here to 


230 


ZIM PLANS A FEAST 


report a classmate, and my class put me in 
Coventry for breaking the sacred code. Even 
my roommate turned against me, and for 
almost the entire year I bad to endure that 
silence from every member of my class. I 
can tell you, it was pretty hard. The next fall 
there was a change of feeling that came from 
a talk the Commandant gave the brigade on 
‘codes of honor,’ and the class voted me an 
apology; but I was too proud then to let any 
of them make friends with me. I had learned 
to get along by myself and have kept that 
way, I reckon I was foolish at that. But you 
are a gregarious little beast and you can’t get 
along all by yourself. Furthermore, you have 
a loyal friend in your roommate, and you owe 
it to him, if to nobody else, to quit playing the 
abused martyr and cheer up. 

“Now what you need is something to get 
interested in. There’s nothing much for ai 
person of your build except the place of 
coxswain on the crew. They’ll need a new 
cox this year, I reckon, because last year’s 
231 


‘‘ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

man is getting too heavy, and it’s up to you to 
make a good try for the job.” 

‘‘I’d thought of that, sir, but Mr. Boothby, 
the crew captain, is one of those who believes 
I ” 

“Well, you go ahead and make good. He’ll 
give you a chance if you are worth it, and I’ll 
talk with him myself. What you want to do 
right away is to begin learning all you can 
about the job. Tell Ferguson, the boat-house 
keeper, what you’re trying to do, and he’ll 
point you fair. He’s an old professional 
oarsman. Bead carefully the Badminton 
Library book on rowing, it’s got some good 
suggestions and one of the copies in the 
library has been pencilled up by a coach for 
the benefit of previous coxswains. Wednes- 
day and Saturday afternoons I want you to 
report for boxing lessons again. Now are 
you game! Will you shake hands on it?” 
j When Dick got back to his room after a 
quick plunge, Zim noted with pleasure a dif- 
ferent expression on his face and the old ring 
232 


ZIM PLANS A FEAST 


in his voice. The two friends talked over the 
Ehino’s suggestion about trying for cox- 
swain, and Zim hailed the idea as an inspira- 
tion. The latter then confided in Dick his own 
secret ambition to make a place in the 
dramatic association, the ‘‘Masqueraders,” 
whose committee was going to hold competi- 
tive trials the following Saturday. 

Zim’s ambition was quickly and easily 
gratified. After the trials he came running 
out to his friend who was waiting outside 
bubbling all over with the news that his orig- 
inal stunt had won him a place “right off the 
bat,” and for a week afterwards could talk 
of nothing but the monologue sketch he had 
been ordered to prepare for the Masquer- 
aders ’ J une Week show. He was so much set 
up by this success and by the fact that he had 
squeaked by the semi-annuals without bilg- 
ing, that he took to frenching again. Once, 
however, he sneaked into the room after taps, 
very much out of breath and aggrieved. 

“Some one^s got on to my little vaulting 


233 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


place,’’ he growled. ‘‘I almost ran into a 
jimmy-legs and he gave me plenty of exercise 
getting back to home and wife.” He puffed 
like a porpoise for a few minutes while Dick 
set his teeth into the tea cake Zim had 
brought. “I’ve got a few more tricks up my 
sleeve yet, though they are more trouble.” 
Zim was lost for a few minutes in meditation. 

“Look here!” he suddenly shouted, jump- 
ing to his feet ; “ I have an inspiration. We ’ll 
celebrate my not bilging, your coming out of 
mourning, my making the ‘Masqueraders,’ 
and your future making of ’varsity coxswain 
— oh, there are plenty of reasons for cele- 
brating! Chuck that math, will you ? Listen, 
I will a plan unfold. It’ll be a frenching 
party, to begin with, in order to make it 
pleasantly exciting, and we’ll have a merry 
frolic with as many regulations broken as 
possible!” Zim threw back his head and 
laughed at the prospect. 

“Cut out your St. Louis product, if you 
want me to come,” said Dick warily, “I’m 

234 


ZIM PLANS A FEASIl 


always caught when I bust a regulation, to 
say nothing of the times I don’t, and while 
I don’t mind getting on third conduct grade 
again for frenching I’ll be hanged if I’ll get 
bilged for being mixed up in a beer fest.” 

‘‘Angel che-ild!” mocked the other. “Have 
your way, Pope Pious the Punk, but listen! 
First course, York River oysters — great wal- 
lopers on the half-shell. Next, clear soup — or 
thick, I haven’t decided which. Then roast 
corn-fed ducks from South River — mm-mm! 
I’ll get a room in Mrs. Burrough’s, next door 
to Carvel Hall hotel, so we can have things 
served hot and in style right from the kitchen 
of the hotel.” 

“Hold on now; old Smitty lives in Carvel 
Hall, and he’d nose us out in a minute, you 
bet!” Lieutenant-Commander Smith was 
Head of the Department of Seamanship, re- 
cently Senior Assistant in the Department of 
Discipline. The terror of his name still 
hovered about Bancroft Hall. 

“Smitty be hanged. You’re the darndest 

235 


« PEWEE CLINTON, PLEBE 


Traid cat, my dear Pewee. What’s the use 
of a frolic without the tang of danger in it? 
They wouldn’t bilge us anyway, even if they 
did catch us I” 

‘‘Well, I dunno about that,” assented Dick 
dubiously. 

“And no one that hasn’t the nerve to 
french, or hasn’t the gump to do it can come 
to the party. ’ ’ 

“WTiat of me? I never frenched yet, and 
I’ll get pinched sure. You’d better leave me 
out.” 

“No, sir! That would be like having a 
closet without a skeleton in it. Why this 
party is specially to take the remains of that 
grouch out of your system anyway. I’ll 
french with you, my little one, to see you 
safely out.” 

Dick still felt rather dubious, but he 
couldn’t throw any more wet blankets on his 
roommate’s enthusiasm. That gentleman 
was so much tickled over the idea that he 
snatched a towel from the washstand and, 

236 


ZIM PLANS A FEAST 


announcing that he was Isadora Duncan, the 
classical dancer, bounced, flourished and gy- 
rated about the room to the music of the 
‘‘Spring Song,’’ which he himself whistled 
with an expression of holy rapture in his eyes. 
Dick managed to trip him up against the 
locker, and the usual ‘ ‘ rassle ’ ’ took place. As 
soon as he could Zim passed the word to half 
a dozen of his staunchest friends and made 
his arrangements. The only possible hitch, 
he declared, was that each man would have 
to find a way out of the yard, and some one 
might have the unspeakable fate of being 
“pinched.” 

“You know it’s a shame Wentworth and I 
hate each other,” observed Zim on the even- 
ing that his great “non-reg party” fell due. 
“I’d like to invite him and cheer him up too; 
swill two grouches with one stein, as the say- 
ing is.” He laughed heartily at Dick’s wry 
face. “Went sure is unhappy. I heard that 
he and the Bilger had a falling out, not long 
ago. They say that Went up and called him a 

237 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


blankety-blank cheat. Wbat do you think of 
that? I guess Harold the boy hero has been 
pretty cleanly skinned by this time. Any- 
how he looks sorer and sorer every day.’^ 
‘‘He can’t get too sore to please me!” 
growled the other. ‘ ‘Well, I ’m in your hands. 
It’s most time to sneak, isn’t it?” 

Almost at the word the bell struck 9.30, 
announcing release from books. The two 
boys slipped out into the corridor, through 
to the east terrace, and thence to the ground. 
Fortunately, it was a drizzly, dark night, as 
black as a pocket and most favorable for their 
project. They slipped silently along the river 
front till they gained the shelter of the coal 
heaps near the steam building. Still follow- 
ing the water, and keeping a sharp eye out 
for the figure of a “jimmy-legs,” Zim led 
the way past the boat-houses to the rear of 
the officer’s quarters where, in a friendly cor- 
ner, Zim had hidden a piece of board. 

“Donnerwetter !” he exclaimed in dismay. 
“I solemnly promised to bring the money for 

238 


ZIM PLANS A FEAST3 


tlie dinner to-night. The steward told me 
the management wouldn’t allow the dinner 
served without a deposit — and I forgot all 
about it! Well, you get over quick, and I’ll 
be there as soon as I can sneak to quarters 
and back again. Don’t you let ’em serve any 
of the dinner till I come. Over you go !” 

Dick swung over the wall, landed lightly on 
the town side and walked nervously in the 
shadow of the trees to the shelter of Mrs. 
Burrough’s house, lucky enough, he thought, 
to get there without even seeing an officer. 
As he stepped inside the friendly doorway he 
drew a deep breath of relief. He had to admit 
to himself that he couldn’t feel easy till he’d 
got back safely to quarters, but meanwhile he 
was going to try to have as good a time as he 
could* 


XIV 

AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL 


When Dick arrived, he found himself the 
first on the scene, but within five minutes the 
other six guests came together. They had 
hired a skiff to come to the bay side of the 
sea-wall and take them off. The excitement 
and fun of a lark, contrary to regulations, 
had everybody keyed up to the jolliest spirits, 
and what their repartee may have lacked in 
wit was made up in laughter. But it was high 
time for dinner, and no Zim! 

“It would be a good one on him if he was 
the one to get pinched after alll’^ laughed 
one of the crowd. “We’ll eat his dinner 
anyway.” 

“Give him time,” replied the Pewee, “he 
was afraid he’d be late, and he told me to be 
sure to wait for him.” 


240 


AN UNWELCOME AKRIVAL 

Some one then sat down to the piano and 
several gathered round and began bellowing 
the latest comic opera waltz song. 

‘‘Cheese it, fellows; pipe down, won’t 
you f ’ ’ interrupted the oldest of the lot. ‘ ‘ Our 
windows are slam up against the hotel, and 
some one will catch on to us. You know Old 
Smitty lives there, and I can just see what 
he^d do to our party!” 

This advice had the effect of toning down 
the merriment for a few minutes, but soon it 
was as bad as ever. Suddenly the door-bell 
rang. 

“Hooray, there’s Dutchy at last!” some 
one shouted, and all hands crowded out into 
the hallway to drag him in and abuse him 
for keeping them waiting. Dick himself 
opened the door. 

“Zim!” he began, peering into the dark- 
ness; then his jaw dropped with terror. Oh, 
if it only had been Zim ! Instead, Lieutenant- 
Commander Smith stood just outside the 
threshold, running his eye over the thunder^ 


241 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


struck group, and fingering his stubby mous- 
tache and beard. 

‘‘No,’’ he growled hoarsely, “I have just 
ordered Midshipman Zimmerman to return to 
quarters and put himself on the report. Hm, 
all smoking, I see, except Clinton. Gentle- 
men, this little escapade will probably cost 
you your summer leave. For some of you it 
may mean dismissal. Put on your coats and 
caps and fall in. No talking. Follow me.” 

The poor crestfallen wretches dropped 
their cigarettes and obeyed orders. Two by 
two they filed out of the house without a 
chance to say a word to poor Mrs. Burroughs, 
who, after one glance over the boys’ shoul- 
ders, had fled. Smitty led the way with his 
characteristic important bearing and pom- 
pous stiff stride. Any other time the fellows 
would have winked at each other behind the 
martinet’s back, but this was no laughing 
matter. Several of that miserable squad 
were wondering if this frenching escapade 
would, as old Smitty cruelly hinted, serve to 


242 


AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL’ 

bilge them. Dick was horribly mortified. It 
would certainly sound foolish when he tried 
to explain to the home folks the reason why 
he had no summer leave. Hang old Zim any- 
way, why had he been so crazy about this 
non-reg party? As the squad reached the 
avenue, the leaders marched column right 
toward the Academy gate. 

told you to follow me!” snarled the 
officer, and the culprits, swinging back, 
crossed the avenue and went slopping along 
straight ahead. Arriving at the next cross 
street, they got no orders to turn toward the 
Yard, but followed their leader up the brick 
walk leading across the campus of St. John’s 
College. On they went through the drizzling 
rain into the muddy back field of the campus, 
headed apparently for the marine barracks 
across the creek. What on earth did Smitty 
mean to do ? 

^^He’s going to get a guard from the marine 
barracks and parade us back under arrest 
like deserters ! ’ ’ whispered Dick ’s companion. 


243 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


*‘No one but Smitty could do anything as dirt 
mean as that 

^‘Halt!’’ Seven pairs of feet slapped in 
unison on the wet turf. 

‘ ‘ Eight face ! Eight dress ! Now I ’ll teach 
you to disobey regulations ! ” At this Lieuten- 
ant-Commander Smith stepped forward and 
pulled each nose in the line! Dick remem- 
bered that it had been said that Smitty had 
insanity in his family. What were they to do? 

‘‘Listen, I will sing for you.” The poor 
demented officer started off in a high nasal 
voice parodying a vaudeville song, “You were 
happy till I met you ! ’ ’ 

Dick suddenly snorted and, jumping from 
the ranks, he fell upon the crazy officer, bowl- 
ing him over. 

‘ ‘ Oh, you Zim ! ” he screamed. 

“It’s Dutchy himself!” was an answering 
shout as the others caught on and made for 
their tormentor. 

“Hold on, quit, fellows, or I won’t let you 

244 


AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL 

have any dinner!” gasped Zim. “You’re 
spoiling my make-np!” 

“Well, you hand us that dinner right off, 
or we’ll paste the life out of you I” threatened 
one who was sitting on “Smitty’s” stomach. 

“It’s all ready and waiting, kind friends,” 
chirruped Zim, readjusting his whiskers and 
scrambling to his feet. “Come on!” 

When they regained the street they re- 
formed as a squad, with “Smitty” at their 
head, and marched back to the house, where 
they found Mrs. Burroughs smiling a wel- 
come. She was “on,” as Zim had to explain. 

Then Zim removed his whiskers and took 
the head of the table on which the oysters 
lay already spread, “each as big as a baby,” 
the master of the feast proudly declared. If 
anything had been needed to make the din- 
ner a “go” Zim’s stunt would have been more 
than enough. There never was such a good 
dinner, there never was such a running 
accompaniment of noise and laughter from 


245 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


eight boys with nothing worse than excite- 
ment and fun to intoxicate them. Zim ex- 
plained that his imitation of Smitty was the 
stunt that he had used with success before 
the Masqueraders’ committee, and had asked 
them to say nothing about it. 

‘ ‘ Where did you get your uniform, Dutch 1 ’ ’ 

‘‘My dear uncle’s cast-offs.” 

“Where in thunder do you keep them?” 

“Ah, that’s a secret that even my little 
roommate Bright Eyes hasn ’t caught on to. I 
won’t give it away because you’d all swipe my, 
patent and that would be an end of it. Let 
me tell you, gents, hereafter I french in classy 
style!” 

“Look here,” exclaimed another suddenly, 
“old Smitty might turn up yet!” 

“Calm your throbbing and fearful heart,” 
replied Zim waving a carving knife at him 
grandly. “I have the honor of knowing his 
angel daughter Grade, and she let me know 

when he would be away. He is in Washing- 
240 


AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL 


ton to-night at the dinner of the Marine 
Engineers.’’ 

The joyous dinner held on till after mid- 
night, and then it was agreed that it was 
about time to ‘ ‘ beat it back to quarters. ’ ’ The 
rest of the crowd went down the street to the 
wharf to find their skitf, while Dick and Zim 
sneaked quietly behind the hotel to scale that 
part of the Academy wall directly ahead of 
them instead of going back by the roundabout 
route that Dick had come by. Zim said that, 
instead of putting on his disguise again, he 
was going to french over the wall with the 
Pewee — for the sake of old timesi — ^by the 
backyard of Herr Strubel. It was raining 
so hard, he said, that the watchmen would be 
surely under cover and anyone, even Dick, 
might be trusted to french it safely. 

On gaining the street just outside the Yard, 
Dick bumped into an unsteady figure emerg- 
ing from the shadows and knocked him over. 

^‘What on earth!” exclaimed Dick, stoop- 
247 


‘‘ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


ing over the motionless figure. As the two 
lifted the helpless man he turned an uncon- 
scious face toward them. 

‘‘It’s Wentworth!” exclaimed Zim, “and 
full as a tick, too!” 

There was no denying either statement. 
Dick let go in disgust. He couldn’t help 
feeling a fierce delight in seeing his enemy 
in that disgraceful condition, for no amount 
of sobering could get him into the Yard on 
his own legs before morning, and the great 
Wentworth would be hopelessly disgraced, 
and probably dismissed. 

“Well,” said Zim sharply as he noticed 
Dick’s snort of contempt, “we can’t leave him 
here, you know.” 

Dick hadn’t cared a hang whether Went- 
worth slept on the wet sidewalk all night or 
not, in fact, he rather preferred that he 
should, but Zim’s words made him ashamed 
of himself. 

“No, of course not,” he said hastily; “but 
what in thunder can we do?” 


243 


AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL 

Zim pondered. ‘‘We’ll have to take him 
with us through Striibel’s back yard. Once 
we lift him to the top of the wall we’ll just 
push him off. A drunk can fall any distance 
without getting hurt. Then we’ll have to 
worry him back to quarters somehow. Good 
Lord, if they catch sight of me in this uniform 
and recognize Dutchy Zimmerman, it’s all 
off!” 

It was a slow process. Zim smeared a 
handful of melting snow from the gutter over 
Wentworth’s face to revive him enough to 
get him on his feet. Then by much coaxing 
and shoving they got him across the street 
and into the bandmaster’s yard. 

Up went a window. “Who is dere^ Or I’ll 
shoot alretty!” 

“Schweigen, bitte (quiet, please),” croaked 
Zim, “Zimmerman!” 

“Ja, ja!” laughed Strubel, withdrawing 
his head, and shutting the window. It was 
a twenty-minute job to get Wentworth upon 
the wall, from which Zim shoved him with as 
249 


«PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


much consideration as if he had been a bag 
of meal. The two rescuers then jumped after 
and looked hastily round. Not a ‘‘jimmy- 
legs” could be seen. 

‘ ‘ Great luck ! ’ ’ whispered Zim. “Now for a 
long haul!” 

By this time no amount of pinching or cold 
water could restore any animation in Went- 
worth. 

“They 11 pinch us sure!” grunted Dick as 
they started off with their burden. 

‘ ‘ The chances are against us, ’ ’ agreed Zim, 
“but there’s nothing else to do.” 

It was a long haul, indeed, before the two 
got their burden unobserved around under the 
lee of Bancroft Hall by the wide terrace that 
faces the bay. 

“Now, what?” 

“I’m going to try to re-rig my whiskers 
and bluff it into quarters to Went’s room- 
mate and wake him up,” answered Zim. 
“You stand by the remains.” 

250 


AN UNWELCOME ARRIVAL 


Dick waited beside Wentworth’s prostrate 
figure, bis teeth chattering with the wet and 
cold. The minutes dragged like hours. Two 
bells struck — one o’clock. Then about fifteen 
minutes later, though it seemed to Dick about 
a week, Zim reappeared from one of the win- 
dows on the level of the terrace accompanied 
by Wentworth’s roommate. All three worked 
together and step by step bore the sleeping 
Wentworth to the top of the terrace. Then, 
at the risk of a broken neck for everybody 
concerned, they shoved and dragged him 
along a plank that had been placed across the 
yawning ‘‘moat” from the terrace to the 
window. This took twenty minutes more of 
the hardest kind of work. Once in, however, 
it proved an easy matter for the two friends 
to slip up the stairs to their room on the 
third deck. Thanks to the downpour and 
some miracle of luck, they had escaped 
unobserved. 

Before they left, the roommate, an ardent 


251 


« PEWEE ’’ CLINTON, PLEBE 

partisan of Wentworth’s, eyed them in an 
embarrassed way for a moment. Then he 
said: 

‘‘Say, you fellows certainly did the white 
thing, all right!” 


XV 

THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 


The next morning’s bugle call turned Dick 
out with a nasty cold as a souvenir of his 
struggles with Wentworth in the rain, and 
he felt so dull and sleepy in the afternoon 
recitation that he called down on himself a 
sharp reprimand from his instructor for inat- 
tention and unmilitary bearing. Wentworth 
passed him in silence that afternoon, cross- 
ing over to the other side of the road to 
avoid him. 

‘‘Lot of gratitude he has!” grumbled Dick 
to his chum. “Virtue is its own reward, all 
right, and I’m sick of being virtuous.” 

Zim laughed. “There’s nothing that 
makes a man more grouchy than to have to 
admit to himself that a fellow he hates 
doesn’t deserve to be hated and has put him 

253 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


under a big obligation, besides. It takes some 
time to get used to the idea. But I’m count- 
ing on Went’s waking up one of these days 
to what a fool he is, and I think he’s begin- 
ning now. I heard to-day that he went out 
of his way to insult the Bilger good and 
plenty; it was probably he who got Went full 
last evening, so there ’ll be a quiet little scrap 
somewhere to-night.” 

^‘Shucks! I don’t believe there’s a single 
good streak in that Wentworth,” retorted 
Dick savagely. “He’s fifty-seven varieties 
of chump.” 

Zim laughed good-naturedly and changed 
the subject by talking of the Masqueraders 
and of the monologue which he was to get up. 
This brought back the memory of the night 
before, and Dick laughed himself back into 
good humor at the picture of the disconsolate 
parade in the rain at the heels of the re- 
doubtable “Smitty.” 

“By the way,” he broke off suddenly, 

254 


THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 


*‘what in time did you do with those uniform 
things and the make-ups? I saw them on 
your chair last night, hut there was nothing 
lying round at inspection this morning.” 

‘‘Swear you’ll never tell?” 

“By the Beard of the Prophet!” 

“Behold then!” Zim went into his little 
bedroom, followed by Dick. The former then 
lifted back the bedding and along the seam 
of the mattress next to the wall showed a 
neat slit, fastened close by tiny hooks and 
eyes. A layer of the stuffing had been re- 
moved and in its place, neatly folded, lay the 
uniform coat together with the cap insignia 
and strap which Zim had fastened over the 
anchor and plain strap of his midshipman’s 
cap. 

“Down here is a pretty assortment 
of make-up boxes and some extra fine 
whiskers,” said Zim. “When I french now, 
it will be a lot more trouble, but it’ll be done 
in artistic style. There are four officers here 

255 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


that I can make-up to look enough like in 
the evening to fool the jimmy-legs at the 
gates. You watch me ! ’ ’ 

‘‘Your place is doing a head-liner on the 
vaudeville circuit,’’ laughed Dick. “I’m not 
going to help you any more with your Eng- 
lish, math or Dago. The sooner you bilge, 
the better for your career.” 

“I once thought so myself,” sighed Zim, 
“but you don’t know my old man! He’s 
counting on you to pull me through this 
place, and you’ll be sorry you ever got on 
his wrong side if you don’t make good. You 
bet your life I don’t write home anything 
of this masquerading business. Why, the 
old man would go up in the air so high he’d 
be mistaken for an aviation meet!” 

The last week in February was unusually 
and unseasonably warm and the balmy tem- 
perature held on into the middle of March. 
The early spring weather soon brought out 

256 


THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 


the crews. For weeks Dick had ‘ ‘ boned all 
the information he could lay his hands on 
either in hand-books or from the wisdom and 
experience of the boathouse keeper. When 
the first call for candidates was issued, he 
reported for the position of coxswain. At 
first he was ignored. The other crews were 
supplied with coxies till it came to the Plebe 
shell, and the only other candidates were so 
much heavier than the Pewee that he was 
finally ordered to take the position on trial. 
Unfortunately, many of the Plebe oarsmen 
were of Wentworth’s gang, and some of them 
grumbled openly against having him. The 
coach, noticing the disturbance, stepped in 
and, ordering silence, commanded Dick to 
take the place assigned him. 

Dick was alternately hot and cold with 
anger and mortification, but he set his teeth 
in the determination to make good in spite 
of everybody. Accordingly, when his turn 
came, he snapped out the orders he had care- 
267 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


fully rehearsed beforehand, and got his men 
afloat in quicker time than any other cox but 
the Varsity. 

Then, day after day, during those early 
weeks of warm weather, Dick took his shell 
out on the course, with his whole head and 
heart concentrated on the idea of learning 
his job and being the best cox on the river. 

From the first day he learned that the 
position is not all marshmallows and cream. 
The big men who ‘‘do the work^^ act as if 
they despised the little cox as only a neces- 
sary nuisance at best, and Dick had to take 
a good deal of ill humor with good nature. 
However, he proved himself so ready and 
willing to turn his hand to odd jobs and 
errands for the others that he soon overcame 
a good deal of the prejudice against him. 
He learned, too, the necessity of keeping his 
eye on the steering apparatus. More than 
once he had to spend laborious minutes unty- 
ing knots in the tiller ropes that practical 
jokers had put there. And before he took 


258 


JTHE PLEBE COXSWAIN 

his crew for its first spin he had unlearned 
that rooted and popular superstition — ^that 
a coxswain must sway back and forth in time 
with the stroke of the boat. Then, with prac- 
tice, he caught on to the ‘‘feeP’ of his rud- 
der, the amount of pressure needed in making 
a turn properly or in holding a course against 
the leeway of tide and wind. 

In the boathouse he would humbly go and 
fetch the stroke’s sweater for him, but in the 
boat he knew he must be a real boss, and sang 
out his orders like an admiral. He listened 
intently to the coaching in order to apply the 
principles to his own shell. Still there was 
no particular chance for him to distinguish 
himself, and all he could be thankful for was 
that he had no trouble in holding his seat in 
the Plebe crew. During these weeks his class 
averages slumped down to a bare satisfac- 
tory. He ate, talked, and dreamed nothing 
but rowing. 

Wentworth had come out for the crew, and 
from the first held a seat in the ’varsity shell. 

259 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

After the first week three were transferred 
from the Plebe crew to the Varsity, for the 
champion crew of the preceding year had 
nearly all belonged to the graduating class. 
They had left six seats to be filled, and much 
trouble cropped up in the effort to fill them. 
The coxswain was a veteran, but he was ad- 
mittedly too heavy for his position. The 
fact, however, that he had had experience, 
and was a friend of the captain V besides, 
made his seat secure. The other positions 
were the scene of constant shift. 

As it never rains but it pours, three weeks 
after practice began, Arnold, the only other 
veteran oarsman beside the captain, had a 
bad fall on the floor of the gym which put 
his knee out of business for the season and 
transferred him to the hospital. The coach 
began to tear his hair at the prospect. 

Soon there came the reaction after a too 
early spring. Icy northwest winds roared 
down the river, roughening its surface with 
white caps. Then came a snowstorm, fol- 
260 


THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 

lowed by more northwest gales, bringing the 
intensest cold of the winter. The calendar 
seemed to have slipped back into midwinter. 
Over two weeks passed in which not a shell 
could venture out. Then, although there 
were occasional tastes of good weather, just 
to make the contrast more doleful, the rest 
of the spring was a miserable failure. The 
cold of the earth and water, combined with 
the warmth of an April sun shining some- 
where behind the wind clouds, bred a con- 
stant succession of blinding fogs, which 
came sneaking in from the bay and shut out 
everything from sight. 

The history of that year’s boating at the 
Academy matched the weather. Early in 
April a preliminary race was pulled off with 
an amateur crew that came down from Balti- 
more. Under ordinary conditions the race 
would have been a walk-over for the middies, 
but this year it was a hard-fought struggle to 
make the finish line a half length ahead. 
After that there was some talk of actually 
261 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


disbanding, but Captain Bootbby, foaming 
with rage though he was, swore mightily that 
his crew would yet retrieve itself if he had to 
kill every one of the ding-batted, good-for- 
nothing sons of hookworms in the crew squad 
to do it. The make-up of the Varsity was 
changed and rechanged, but nothing seemed 
to lift the ‘‘hoodoo.’^ The men were green 
and seemed to lose confidence in themselves 
after a poor beginning. The coach exhausted 
all his stock of language and all his experi- 
ence on them, but with discouraging results. 

Though Dick kept his seat in the Plebe 
shell, he had no races to engineer except the 
occasional tryouts between the various crews 
on the home stretch, and as the best Plebe 
material went to the Varsity, what was left 
gained no glory for the Pewee. One of these 
contributions to the Varsity was Miller, 
whom Dick interested in rowing in order to 
have him on the Plebe crew, but who proved 
too successful to stay there. 

Day after day, during that April, the Pewee 
262 


[THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 


barked his orders through his little mega- 
phone, shivering in the cold rains or equally 
disagreeable fogs that drifted up the river 
from the bay. Meanwhile, every race that 
amounted to anything was lost by the luckless 
Varsity, and the gloom in the boathouse got 
so thick one could have cut it with a knife. 
There was just one race left after the first 
week in May, the biggest event of the rowing 
season, the race with Columbia. 

Eeports had come south that the New 
Yorkers had had bad luck also this season, 
and kept alive a spark of hope that by a 
miracle the navy might pull the event and 
make up for the humiliating season by one 
great victory. But, as the season advanced, 
the Columbia crew showed up better and 
better. 

‘^Nuthin’ in it for us unless them Colum- 
bia fellers all get scarlet fever so V they have 
to cancel the race,’^ observed the boathouse 
keeper with a melancholy wa^ of his head, 
never seen such a rowin’ season here!” 


263 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Wentworth was so angry at being a mem- 
ber of such a crew that it took all the moral 
persuasion of everybody from the coach 
down to keep him from carrying out his 
threat of chucking it and going into the base- 
ball squad. He swore with an injured air 
that he’d rather be a sub on the winning nine 
than be a member of a crew that was the 
laughing stock of the Academy. 

Dick gnashed his teeth over the situation, 
but he was helpless. He used to dream again 
and again of discovering a new secret of row- 
ing, that suddenly made a winning crew out 
of the losers, but there was always the cold 
fact to be waked up to in the morning. 

One afternoon early in May Dick was steer- 
ing his shell round the corner of the sea-wall, 
following the wake of the other crews, who 
were well in the lead because the Plebes had 
been delayed in starting. Dick was calculat- 
ing how accurately he could weather the turn 
with the slightest possible pull of the tiller 
ropes and the least expenditure of oar pull. 

264 


THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 

Suddenly a loaded coal barge appeared 
around tbe angle of the wall, coming from 
behind a coal shed and bearing diagonally 
down upon him. She was being carried along 
by a launch away aft on her starboard side, 
the coxswain of which could not see the com- 
ing shell, nor could he have done anything to 
avoid a collision if he had. Dick’s heart 
jumped into his mouth for it looked like a 
certain collision. To back water would have 
been fatal, there was nothing for it but to 
round the barge. 

“Give way hard!” he yelled. The boat 
shot across the huge buff bows of the barge. 

“Five and seven, trail oars!” The two 
aftermost oars on the starboard side swung 
alongside just in time to avoid having their 
blades smashed against the barge. The next 
instant the great hulk was upon him. Dick 
reached out, caught the wash-rail of the 
barge, kicked the stern of the shell free, and 
the astonished crew looked up at their cox- 
swain clinging to the bow of the barge which 
265 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


had swept past so closely that it had carried 
away the rudder. A stroke or two to clear 
the course of the launch, and then there was 
a shout of laughter, for the Pewee looked for 
all the world like a monkey clinging to the 
bars of his cage. 

It was some time before the Plebe crew 
got its coxswain installed again, shipped a 
new rudder, and was out for its daily spin. 
Dick had so much chaffing on his acrobatic 
stunt that he wasn’t quite sure whether he 
had made himself ridiculous again or had 
done the best that could have been done imder 
the circumstances. But when the little tor- 
pedo boat of the coach tore past, he was 
immensely pleased to hear him shout through 
the megaphone : 

^‘Well done, Plebe Cox I” 

And, better yet, when they were all in the 
dressing rooms he came up to Dick and 
ordered him to report for the Varsity on 
the morrow. Dick could have lain down and 
died for pure joy. 


266 


THE PLEBE COXSWAIN 


*‘The cox is the only man we haven’t 
changed,” said the coach to the captain, with 
a note of bitterness in his voice, ‘‘and a 
change there can’t make matters any 
worse I” 


XVI 

THE RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


- Dick could scarcely wait till Zim came in 
from a Masqueraders rehearsal to tell him 
the news. Of course he was delighted, but 
he pooh-hoohed the idea for the sake of teas- 
ing his chum. 

‘‘What do you want to bet on that rotten 
crew for? It’s the disgrace of the Academy. 
Why, next year when they’re looking for a 
’varsity cox they’ll turn you down because 
of the hoodoo of this year’s crew.” 

“Aw shucks, you think there’s nothing 
worth while except making a show of your- 
self in the Masqueraders!” 

At this Zim squatted on the floor, adjusted 
imaginary tiller ropes, and gave such a side- 
splitting take-off of a coxswain during a race 
that Dick howled with laughter. 

268 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


^ ‘ St-r-r-oke ! Str-r-r-oke ! ’ ’ Zim croaked 
hoarsely. *^Eyes in the boat! More beef — 
people! Get into it now! 8hoot those hands 
away!’’ 

‘‘Cheese it, yon Dutch monkey,” advised 
Dick, “don’t you wish you were a ’varsity 
athlete like meU’ 

“The only kick I have,” he added soberly 
after a minute, “is the necessity of looking 
into Wentworth’s face. He sits just behind 
Boothby, the stroke, you know. ‘Harold, the 
Boy Hero’ — dog-gone his supercilious mug! 
I wish I were big enough to paste it ! ” 

“Pshaw, never mind old Went; he’ll be 
civilized yet if he can only stay here long 
enough. Only yesterday he came to me of 
his own accord and paid me all he had bor- 
rowed. I nearly fell dead ! And did you see 
the Bilger after that little affair of honor 
they had behind the old steam building? Old 
Went must have pounded Bullen’s frontis- 
piece all right. They haven’t spoken now 
for weeks.” 


‘‘ PEWEE ’’ CLINION, PLEBE 


‘‘Zim, you are the little Bright Eyes of the 
gossip brigade, all right!’’ laughed Dick. 
‘‘Now you watch me win the Columbia race. 
I’ll hypnotize my bunch of huskies so that 
they’ll have to win!” 

hate to wake you up from your pipe 
dream,” answered Conried, ‘‘your crew 
couldn’t beat Vassar, and everybody knows 
it.” 

Dick stepped into the ’varsity shell for the 
first time with a little nervousness, but with 
every faculty keyed up to make good. His 
lightness was immediately felt to be an im- 
provement, and the coach had small fault to 
find with his head-work. Every afternoon he 
salted away the comments of the coach in a 
little notebook and pored over them at night. 
To his relief, Wentworth gave no trouble by 
sneering remarks or disobedience of orders, 
he simply ignored the presence of the Pewee. 

The days drew near to the race with Co- 
lumbia. The hopes freely expressed that the 
^ New Yorkers would all die suddenly of the 

270 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 

plague were not fulfilled/ for the visiting 
crew appeared in due time, for a few days’ 
practice on the midshipmen’s course, and 
looking very healthy indeed. They were a 
fine-looking set of oarsmen, and on the river 
they soon showed that they knew their busi- 
ness very well. 

^‘All over but bringin’ in the remains I” 
growled the boathouse keeper, scowling at 
the enemy over the bowl of his pipe. ‘ ‘ Them 
fellers could lick us with a 100-yard handi- 
cap!” 

Dick, who had overheard this remark from 
the philosopher, felt his own heart drop 
down into the pit of his stomach. He knew 
that the old fellow was right. That week’s 
Bulletin came out with one of those red-hot 
editorials which the editor-in-chief turns out 
over a team that is in the last ditch. 

‘‘Let the whole Brigade stand for our oars- 
men, who, in spite of the worst luck in the 
history of rowing at the Academy, are striv- 
ing their hardest for victory. Saturday’s 

271 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


race is with Columbia, the hardest rival of 
all, hut we can heat them! "Never say die!** 

Dick read it and tossed the paper aside. It 
was tragic, and this hot-airing only made it 
worse. Even Zim, who had opened his mouth 
to say something in derision of the crew, shut 
it again, seeing how miserable his chum 
really felt. 

Just then the door opened, admitting — of 
all unexpected persons — the Bilger ! Accord- 
ing to the sacred custom, whenever an upper 
classman enters a Plehe’s room, the lads rose 
at attention and faced the wall. 

‘‘Aw chuck it, fellows, the Bilger was oily 
with patronizing kindness, “I’m talking biz. 
Here’s a time when all of us in the Brigade 
has got to stand by the crew, show the Colum- 
bia bunch that we ain’t afraid of ’em, and we 
still got confidence in our boat, no, matter 
what’s happened. Now them fellows can’t 
find takers for their money, and it’s a dis- 
grace to the school. I’m getting a pool to- 
gether to equal what they’ve brought down, 

272 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


and it^s every man’s business to chip in five 
dollars anyway to show his loyalty to the 
school.” 

^‘I’m not betting, sir,” said Dick curtly. 

‘‘Me either,” echoed Zim. 

“Aw, be a sport sneered Bullen, 
“Gowan!” 

When he saw at last they were firm, he 
consigned them both to a warm climate and 
went on up the corridor. The Bilger’s argu- 
ment, Dick learned afterwards, had more 
effect elsewhere, and, much as it hurt to give 
up money on a hopeless thing like the 
Columbia race, many a fellow let it go as a 
sacrifice he would make out of loyalty to the 
navy, and Bullen collected a heavy sum. 

The evening before the race the last blow 
fell. Wentworth received a telegram from 
his mother saying that his father was at the 
point of death. To Zim, with whom he had 
for some time renewed friendly relations, he 
explained that his father had been poorly for 
some time, but this dreadful announcement 

273 


«PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 

was wholly unexpected. He hurried to get 
the necessary permission from the Superin- 
tendent, pack his grip and rush for the next 
train. Was there ever a team with such a 
hoodoo f No loss could have been harder to 
bear in the crew except that of the captain 
himself. It was all over but the shouting ! 

The coach remarked sarcastically that it 
wouldn’t make much difPerence, he supposed, 
if he picked a substitute by lot, not excluding 
the coxswain. However, the biggest man in 
the second crew was chosen and fitted into 
Wentworth’s place. To Dick it was all as 
tragic as if he was bearing on his own shoul- 
ders the responsibility of the honor of the 
entire navy. He knew that a win was im- 
possible, but what was worse was the certain 
prospect of a long, long reach of open water 
between the stern of the Columbia shell and 
the bow of the navy’s. From the Columbia 
point of view it was going to be a ludicrous 
walk-over. 

Meanwhile Zim had been buzzing around 

274 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


with a very important and mysterious air for 
several days prior to the race. He was up 
to something, but very secretive about it. 
Finally, when he came down to the float to 
shake Dick’s hand for the last time before 
the race, he was fairly bursting with some- 
thing. 

Never mind what happens in this foolish 
race, Dick, old man, I’ll cheer you up when 
it’s over!” 

Dick wondered whether it was another of 
Zim’s practical jokes, but his head and heart 
were so full of the coming tragedy of the race 
that he promptly forgot about Zim and fell 
to scrutinizing his steering gear with a micro- 
scopic eye to make ^re that nothing had 
happened to it ovef night. 

The Columbia crew knew all about the 
dismal history of the midshipmen’s rowing 
season, culminating with the loss of Went- 
worth the evening before, and their coxswain 
commiserated with Dick on the fact. 

‘^Rotten hard luck you fellows have had!” 

275 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


lie said. The remark was perfectly cour- 
teous, but Dick felt unreasonably angry be- 
cause to him it sounded like ‘4t’s a shame to 
take the money.’’ 

In fact, there were no unfounded hopes 
either in the crew or among the navy crowd. 
The few canoes and the tug Standish that 
were already out in the river for the race con- 
tained not more than a sprinkling of mid- 
shipmen and their friends. The rest pre- 
ferred to watch the track meet and the ball 
game which were going on at the same time, 
and in both of which events the navy had a 
good chance of winning. The navy oarsmen 
themselves realized all this and were a very 
glum lot as they took to the water, in striking 
contrast with their cheerfully confident 
rivals. 

To add to the misery, the day’s weather 
was the last spasm of the wintry spring. A 
raw breeze came in from the bay and gave 
the lie to the May sun overhead. In the dis- 
tance between a hazy sky and a gray sea hung 

276 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


a fog. The rival crews rowed out in the bay 
and took their stations near the lighthouse 
with their hows pointing up river. Near the 
county bridge lay the two cutters, with their 
signal pennants flying, marking the finish 
of the course. The crews of the two shells 
chafed their arms as they lay on their oars, 
and cursed the biting wktd.' Usually there is 
no delay so deadly long, and with so little 
apparent reason, as that which attends the 
start of a boat rac^^-^erhaps in this case the 
navy officials thought that the sooner the 
thing was over the better, for to Dick’s relief 
the preparations were got over in a business- 
like way and in a comparatively short time. 

^‘Are you ready?” 

‘‘Ready,” answered the coxswains. 

Bang! At the report the oars dipped and 
flashed, and the two shells leaped forward. 
Dick’s eye took in a great deal in the first 
minute. As he was chanting the beat of the 
oars, he saw that the New Yorkers, while 
pulling the same kind of stroke, were pulling 
277 . 


«PEWEE” CEINTON, PLEBE 

fewer to the minute than the midshipmen and 
walking away from them. The new substi- 
tute was plainly very nervous and was splash- 
ing badly. The others were working at their 
best, but they had a hopeless expression on 
their set faces which showed that they were 
fully aware that they were already beaten. 
Dick let the others pull ahead still farther 
without quickening his stroke, for the coach 
had told him to manage for a strong finish 
anyway. The coach had told him much else 
besides which Dick was busily turning over 
in his mind. 

Another few seconds and he noticed that 
the fog was drifting in before the light south- 
erly wind, coming diagonally across the 
course. Already the left shore of the bay 
was lost in a white bank. ‘^That confounded 
bay fog is coming in again!” he thought, ‘‘in 
another minute there won’t be anything in 
sight on the river.” Already the Academy 
buildings were gone, and the mist was wet on 

278 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 

the navy gunwales. The coxswain of the 
Columbia crew, now well in the lead, turned 
his head to note the struggles of the navy 
oarsmen; and, as he took in the situation, 
he gave a little laugh which Dick’s ears 
caught with full appreciation of what it 
meant. But just then he had business in 
mind which allowed him no time for resent- 
ment. As the finish boats were already show- 
ing faintly in the incoming sweep of the fog, 
he hastily took a ‘‘sight” of the sun, already 
showing red through the mist, where it stood 
over the right shoulder of Stroke as a guide 
to steer his course by. The next instant they 
were lost to sight. In another minute the 
black hulks of the Santee and the Hartford 
on one side and the white sides of the 
Olympia on the other were swallowed up. By 
this time the Columbia crew were two lengths 
ahead, and Dick could just see ahead of him, 
well off his starboard side, the Columbia 
coxswain twisting his head in bewilderment. 

279 


'' PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


Dick had had many an unpleasant hour in 
these fogs before, hut now he took back every 
impatient thing he had ever said about them. 

‘‘WeVe got them beaten!” he exclaimed, 
under his breath, and pausing in his hoarse 
chant. ^‘We’ll pass them in the fog. Now 
hit it up!” 

At the word, Dick quickened the time, hiss- 
ing the beats under his breath in order to 
give no unnecessary sound for their rivals. 
Now the fog was so dense that one could 
scarcely see beyond the length of an oar. 
The men caught the hope of a chance to win, 
and put more steam into their pull. On they 
went into that blank wall of fog, with Dick 
glancing from time to time at the round red 
ball of the sun overhead in order to keep it 
just over that point of Boothby’s shoulder 
that he had measured with his eye. Some- 
where off at the right he heard strong lan- 
guage hurled at the fog and at the Columbia 
coxswain. Clearly the rival crew were now 
too badly lost to keep ahead at anything like 
280 



TO MAKE THE FINISH DICK MADE HIS MEN PULL WITH EVERY 

OUNCE OF POWER LN THEM 



RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


their former speed, and the click of the navy 
oarlocks was too far off to give any useful 
idea of the course to the bewildered coxswain. 
Dick almost laughed aloud. By George, the 
navy was going to win this race I 

Then for a while he eased up the stroke a 
few counts, as he could get no idea of distance 
when everything, as he told Zim afterwards, 
“looked like the inside of a custard pie.’’ 
Soon he caught the misty outlines of the 
Standish waiting near the finish, just as he 
was almost upon her, and then the masts and 
flags of the finish boats themselves. He found 
that his guess-work steering had led him a 
little, but not far, astray of his true course; 
but it was clear steering now! 

To make that finish Dick made his men pull 
with every ounce of power in them. The next 
moment the navy friends on the Standish 
were astonished to recognize in the ghostly 
incoming shell the middy crew. Whewee-ee! 
shrieked the whistle as the navy oars flashed 
across the finish. The fog was thinning now, 
281 


«PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 

but for some minutes tbe air was full of con- 
fused whistles and warning shouts. 

As the last stroke was finished and the 
crew lay panting on their oars, Boothby. 
reached out a big hand and grasped Dick’s 
so that it hurt. 

‘‘Good for you, Pewee, it’s your race!” 
and Dick felt almost hysterically happy. Oh, 
if he could have Zim to “rassle” out his sur- 
plus feelings ! Suddenly the dark nose of a 
little torpedo boat was seen, gingerly picking 
a course in the thinning fog. 

“The Manly cried some one, naming the 
coach’s boat. 

“There’s the crew!” came the answering 
yell from the laughing group on her deck, 
followed by our “Four N yell” and the shriek 
of her whistle. As the Manly slid abreast, 
the coach bawled his first joyous shout since 
that ghastly rowing season began. He was 
calling for a “three times three for Clinton,” 
and Dick’s ears felt pink and warm in spite 
282 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


of tlie fog. There were long-drawn shouts 
of ‘‘Pewe-ee!^’ answering from the rail of 
the Standish. 

“Look, what^s that astern?’’ cried Miller. 
Sure enough, as the stem of the Manly^ 
passed it revealed the Columbia shell with 
its nose smashed. Evidently in the fog it 
had run down the torpedo boat. 

“The Columbia crew is below, drying otf !” 
bellowed some one on the Manly through a 
megaphone, and then the little torpedo boat 
slipped away in the direction of the boat- 
house. 

Almost as suddenly as it had come up, the 
fog broke apart; the wind had shifted, and 
soon the filmy shreds of mist were dissolv- 
ing before a westerly wind. 

“Give way!” ordered Dick, and the vic- 
torious crew swept around and sent their 
shell skimming toward the boathouse. The 
news had spread rapidly that the navy crew 
had won in the fog, and a surprised and de- 

283 


•"PEWEE” CLINTON, PLEBE 


lighted crowd of midshipmen were cheering 
the crew by the time it swung alongside the 
float. 

‘‘Clinton! Clinton! Clinton!’^ rang the 
cheers, and Dick’s heart thumped with such 
joy that he forgot all about that sacred cere- 
mony that awaits the coxswain of a winning 
crew. Suddenly Boothhy picked him up by 
the arms, another seized his legs, and with a 
“yo heave ho” Dick went flying end over 
end, striking with a tremendous splash in the 
water. Wow! he came up spluttering and 
gasping, for the water was mighty cold. 
There was another splash accompanied by a 
howl of delight from the crowd on the float, 
and as Dick was swimming ashore he saw the 
immaculate manager, uniform and all, smite 
the water as well. As soon as he crawled out 
on the float Dick was seized by a group of his 
classmates, headed by the joyous Zim, who 
rushed him into the dressing room and 
rubbed him down with such enthusiasm that 
he had to yell for mercy. 

284 


RACE WITH COLUMBIA 


Soon the defeated crew came in to offer 
their congratulations to the winners. They 
were evidently much sorer over the damage 
done to their shell than over the fact that 
they had lost the race by the ‘‘fluke.” Their 
captain especially was a good sport, he had 
won too many times to begrudge this race. 

“Good boy!” he laughed, shaking the Pe- 
wee by the hand. “You got us all right in 
that fog. lUs navy’s race!” 

Dick tried to hunt up the Columbia cox- 
swain and say something graceful and com- 
miserating, but the latter ducked round the 
corner and made for the hotel as fast as he 
could. It was clear that he felt himself to 
blame and was too sore to have his successful 
rival say anything to him. 

It need hardly be said that there was high 
jubilation at quarters that night and that no 
heart beat happier than the one beneath the 
ribs of one Richard Clinton, the Pewee. 


XVII 

THE BILGER BILGES 


At Quarters that evening it was unani- 
mously decided that, as the race was so much 
of a fluke, the proper sporting thing was to 
call all bets off. 

Promptly at 9.30, when study period gave 
place to recreation hour, the room of the 
Bilger was besieged with a joyous crowd of 
midshipmen who had bet on a hopeless thing 
and were now clamoring to get their money 
hack. After one or two interviews that sport- 
ing gentleman tacked a sign on the door, 
‘‘Bets returned to-morrow after Chapel.’’ 

On Sunday morning, however, several of 
the brigade were astounded to see Bullen 
calmly walking out of the Yard in his “cits,” 
carrying a suit case. Chapel service came 
and went, and the now anxious bettors 


286 


fTHE BILGER BItGES 


clustered once more around tlie door for the 
Bilger’s room. The sign had been removed, 
so also was every evidence of Bullen him- 
self. The feelings of the crowd were not 
improved when Boothby came ambling along 
with the information that the Columbia cap- 
tain told him yesterday that they hadn’t 
brought down any special sum from New 
York to be covered. 

“He’s either gone on leave, or resigned in 
a hurry,” said someone in the group, when 
someone began wondering again about the 
Bilger. 

“If he resigned, the Supe and the Com- 
mandant were so glad to have him go that 
they probably got the consent of the Secre- 
tary of the Navy by telephone and packed 
him off like a shot.” At this the dark looks 
and suspicions grew black. Suddenly Went- 
worth came striding down the corridor, 
dressed in his “cits” and carrying his grip. 

“What’s up?” he asked. When they told 
him he swung his fist and swore. 


287 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘I’m pretty wooden, perhaps, but I can 
see through a hole. Do you know what that 
fellow’s done? Well, that telegram saying 
that my father was dying was a fake. I 
hustled home and found my old governor 
smoking a cigar and reading a paper with 
his feet cocked up on the fender. That dog- 
gone Bilger has a brother in my town, and 
he probably sent the telegram — it was dic- 
tated over the ’phone — the idea being to get 
me out of the boat to make dead sure that 
the navy crew would get walloped. Now 
that the navy did win, he’s heat it with your 
money.” 

It sounded all too probable, and there was 
a ghastly silence. Then one happy-go-lucky 
first classman remarked that he didn’t be- 
grudge what he lost if it cost him only that 
much to get the Bilger out of the Academy 
and out of his class. At this there was a 
chorus of approval and the crowd melted 
slowly away. 

As it turned out, the guesses were close 
288 


THE BILGER BILGES 


to the mark. Bullen’s resignation, approved 
in due course, and sent on its way, had not 
reached Washington by the time he had left 
the Yard. Not caring to wait till his game 
was discovered, he had got permission to 
break out his trunk from the basement of 
Quarters, and then coolly walked out on 
Sunday morning, never to return. As the 
Academic authorities could not recognize the 
matter of betting, Bullen’s resignation was 
simply changed to dismissal. The rascal got 
otf with his haul, but the Bilger was actually 
‘‘bilged” at last! 

Zim, who could always be depended on to 
be on hand when there was anything ‘ ‘ doing, ’ ’ 
touched Wentworth on the sleeve and asked 
him for a few minutes’ private talk in his 
room. The few minutes lengthened into all 
the intervening time before dinner call. 
When they came out to formation, Zim’s 
round face had the smile of victory, while 
Wentworth looked very thoughtful. 

“Say, what’s that good news you were 

19 289 


“PE WEE’’ CLINTON, PLEBE 


going to tell me?” inquired Dick suddenly 
that afternoon. Up to that moment he had 
thought of nothing but that race in the fog. 

‘‘I don’t have to tell you now,” laughed 
Zim, “because the navy won after all. Fact 
is, I’ve forgotten what it was anyway. Oh 
yes, here it is ; you know that charmer ‘Cutie’ 
Kenyon?” Miss Kenyon was a confirmed 
flirt of sixteen, much admired by a number 
of the Plebe class. (Dick had said recently 
that he thought her prettier than Phoebe 
and Elsie put together.) “Well, she told 
me the other day that she thought you looked 
^real sweet’!” 

At that Zim caught his roommate’s solid 
geometry on the top of his head, and he 
intimated that it felt very solid indeed. Only 
an officer’s tread outside prevented the usual 
roughhouse as a consequence. 

Monday afternoon after drill came the class 
meeting for electing the class officers, 
notably the president. It was merely a form, 

290 


THE BILGER BILGES 

for everybody knew that Wentworth would 
win hands down. In fact there was no other 
candidate in the field worth considering from 
the point of view of ability to poll votes. 
Dick felt so warm-hearted after the glory of 
that race that he decided that he would be 
generous enough to show himself at class 
meeting and vote for his enemy. Zim urged 
it as good policy, too. Moreover to Dick’s 
utter astonishment, when Wentworth passed 
him that Monday morning, he spoke to the 
Pewee in the pleasantest manner imaginable. 

When the meeting was all ready to be called 
to order, as Wentworth was the candidate 
for president, of course, someone else had 
to take the chair. To Dick’s surprise, as 
soon as the two were in Recreation Hall, Zim 
coolly left his friend and walked up to the 
table that generally served as the chairman’s 
desk. Then he promptly called the meeting 
to order. 

‘^Fellows, I’m acting as temporary chair- 
291 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


man of these festivities because IVe got 
something important to talk to you about. 
It won’t take long to tell it. 

‘‘The last time there was a class meeting 
in this room we were fighting over a question 
of giving one of our number Coventry.” 
Here Dick turned red and tried to slink down 
in his chair out of sight. “Now, I asked you 
fellows,” continued Zim, “to take my word 
that our classmate was not guilty of what 
he was charged with, and a majority of you 
stood by me. Ever since then IVe been 
doing a lot of gum-shoe work, and now I 
have the goods. You fellows who voted with 
me have a right to know, and those who 
didn’t ought to know the facts. 

“After a lot of trouble I found out the 
moke who told Wentworth. His name is Sam 
Nelson, of the mess boys, and you fellows 
mustn’t let on or he’ll lose his job. I told 
him I’d keep his villainy quiet provided he’d 
tell me everything, and I swore I’d report 

292 


THE BILGER BILGES 

him if he didn’t. I’ve got a signed confession 
now in my hand for the benefit of this class. 
I’ll tell yon what it is in brief, and anyone 
who wants to look at it afterwards can see it. 

^‘Bullen, who had a grudge against the 
Pewee, offered the coon fifteen dollars to 
tell Wentworth that yam-~you know — about 
Clinton’s blabbing to Richie. The nigger got 
sore on the Bilger because he couldn’t collect 
more than two dollars from him for the 
job, and let on to me a good deal faster than 
I expected. 

^‘Then I found out how the math people 
caught on to the swiping of the paper without 
firing the nigger. Nelson, like a fool coon, 
sent his pants to the yard laundry and it got 
reported in a roundabout way through one of 
the laundresses. Of course she didn’t know 
whom they belonged to, they were a passed 
midshipman’s cast-off working pants any- 
;way. Now that’s the whole story in a nut- 
shell, and I can prove every word of it.” 

293 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


At this time there was a storm of applause, 
suddenly interrupted by the tall figure of 
Wentworth waving his hand for silence. 

‘‘Mr. Wentworth has the fioor!’^ yelled 
Zim.’’ 

“Fellows,’’ said Wentworth, “Dutchy told 
me all this only yesterday, but for a long 
time I knew that I had been in the wrong 
about a fellow-classmate. He and Zim here 
did me a mighty good turn long ago, but I 
was too soreheaded to admit it and be 
decent. Now that I know that I was lied 
to by that moke and all on account of Bullen, 
I want to do the squarest thing I can here 
on this floor where I did my best to have 
you put Clinton in Coventry. 

“I think I’ve figured it out why the Bilger 
was sour on the Pewee — I mean Clinton — 
from the start. Clinton’s principal who 
failed, Foster, was as easy to skin as I in 
the days when we were candidates, and he 
used to play poker with us Saturday after- 
noons; so when Foster failed and Clinton 


294 


.THE BILGER BILGES 


entered, tne Bilger got sore at losing Ms 
graft. Half Ms graft I should say, for let 
me tell you, he may have cleaned you fel- 
lows out of some money on that race, hut 
you have no idea what he has stung me 
for There was a great laugh at this frank 
admission. 

“Now,’’ he continued, turning so that he 
could look at the place where Dick sat, “I 
want to tell Mr. Clinton before this class 
that I apologize to him heartily and ask 
him to forget that I ever did him dirt. You 
all know that he won the Columbia race for 
us, and so far he’s had nothing but knocks 
from all of us. 

“Fellows, Mr. Chairman, I’d like to pro- 
pose the name of Clinton for president of 
this class.” 

At this there was general cheering and 
applause, for Wentworth never showed him- 
self manlier than in that frank apology which 
must have cost his pride a big struggle. 

Zim hesitated and looked toward Dick. 


295 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

The latter stood on his chair. ‘‘Mr. Chair- 
man!’’ Zim instantly gave him the floor in 
a rattle of hearty applause from the class. 

“Fellows,” he said hesitatingly, “I’ve 
heard this story for the first time here from 
Dutchy Zimmerman. “I’m more pleased 
than I can say to be put square before you 
all, especially before Wentworth, whom I 
have misjudged as much as he has me. Now 
you don’t want a — a — Pewee ^^ — there was a 
roar of laughter at this — “president of a 
class of this size, though I thank Mr. Went- 
worth heartily for the honor of the nomina- 
tion. Zim, I mean Mr. Chairman, I move that 
Mr. Wentworth be elected president of the 
class of 19- by unanimous vote.” 

Zim’s face beamed with delight at his 
friend’s coming so gallantly to the mark. 
There were enthusiastic cheers and applause 
for Dick’s speech too, and as soon as the 
noise had subsided Zim shouted, “Moved 
and seconded that Mr. Wentworth be unani- 

296 


THE BILGER BILGES 


mously elected president of the class of 19- 
All in favor say aye!’’ 

There was such a thunderous aye that Zim 
evidently didn’t consider it necessary to call 
for the noes, for he jumped down from the 
table and made for his friend. He reached 
him just in time to see Wentworth gripping 
Dick’s hand, and the two, football hero and 
little “Pewee” stammering somet;hing in- 
coherent to each other. 

‘‘Let me get into this!” laughed Zim, 
giving a hand to each, “what’s the matter 
with us three for a combination, anyway!” 


XVIII 

JUNE WEEK 


The remainder of that term, a little over 
two weeks, was for Dick the happiest period 
of his life. Somehow everything went just 
right. Wentworth was true to his word, 
and did his level best to square things up 
with the Pewee.” His classmates and ad- 
mirers took the cue from him, and instead 
of the contempt and indifference Dick had 
been accustomed to so long he came as near 
being lionized as a Plebe can be. A large 
number of fellows came up and shook his 
hand, telling him how sorry they were that 
they had misjudged him. Among these was 
Boothby, the crew captain, who though on the 
eve of graduating, told Dick that he wanted 
to do some spooning on him even if it was 
rather late. 


298 


JUNE WEEK 


There were some mighty complimentary 
things in the papers, too, over that Columbia 
race, and the subsequent issue of one of the 
big New York weeklies printed a snapshot 
of him climbing out on the float just after 
his ducking, with the crowd laughing and 
yelling around him and Zim in the fone- 
ground with his hand stretched out to pull 
him in. My, that feeling of “making good’^ 
was fine! 

All this fame, however, was nothing to an 
account that appeared in the Skowhegan 
weekly paper. Dick was looking over the 
issue following the race when he burst out 
with a “Gee Whiz!’’ He was going to add 
“Look here, Zim,” but in that instant he 
decided that he’d rather his teasing chum 
did not look. There was a long “spiel” 
spread over the greater part of the front 
page, concerning Dick’s work in the Colum- 
bia race and his character and attainments 
generally. In the middle of it was his smug 
High School graduation picture, “looking 

299 


«PEWEE^» CLINTON, PLEBE 

awfully kiddish and fresh,’’ thought Dick 
shamefacedly. Then as he went on through the 
glowing account he turned redder and redder. 
It was a regular funeral oration,” he thought, 
and yet it seemed to he written by someone 
who had inside information. Certainly Uncle 
Tom would never write a thing like that, he 
wouldn’t have allowed it to appear if he had 
seen it first. He was a crank on the subject 
of ^‘self-advertising.” 

“Pass that over!” said Zim, who had been 
watching Dick out of the corner of his eye 
with evident amusement. “I think I see the 
Pewee’s earnest countenance on yonder 
printed page!” He managed to snatch the 
paper out of Dick’s hand before the latter 
could prevent him. 

“Get away, now,” he warned, waving a 
foot at the indignant subject of the article, 
“I rather like the style of this!” Then he 
began reading aloud choice flowery hits, 
hooting all the while at the sutfering Pewee. 

300 


JUNE WEEK 


see that this gets reprinted in the 
Bulletin!^* Zim exclaimed with enthusiasm. 

‘^Oh, say!^* expostulated Dick helplessly. 
He knew that the Bulletin editors liked noth- 
ing better than to reprint complimentary mor- 
sels culled from home papers about individ- 
ual midshipmen, and adorned with derisive 
comments. 

“Who’s your friend on the paperf Don’t 
you recognize the style?” 

Dick shook a mournful head and made an- 
other futile dive to get the paper out of Zim’s 
hand. 

“You ought to,” reproved Zim, edging 
toward the door, “after all the coaching in 
English I got from you !” 

“Zim, you didn’t ? You rascal!** 

Bang! The door slammed in Dick’s face 
as Zim dived out into the corridor, paper in 
hand. For several days thereafter he kept 
Dick desperately worried over his threats till 
the Bulletin finally appeared without the 

301 


« PE WEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


dreaded quotations, when the latter realized 
that his obstreperous roommate had kept 
the ‘‘obituary’’ to himself after all. 

The week of Annual Examinations arrived 
shortly after the middle of May. Dick, how- 
ever, had weathered everything successfully 
enough to escape having to take any of the 
examinations, and he put in the spare time in 
coaching Zim, who, as usual, had to take them 
all. Exam week went by, and Zim came out 
with a little more than bare satisfactory in 
everything, a result which made him per- 
fectly happy and contented. 

Then came the excitements and glories of 
“June Week.” Of course, at that season 
the first classmen are the heroes, for it is 
they who are graduating, but it means almost 
as much to the Plebes. In a sense they grad- 
uate, too, for between the despised position 
of Plebe and the dignity of “Youngster” 
there is a great gulf fixed. 

Immediately after Zim’s eulogy appeared 

302 


JUNE WEEK 


in the Skowhegan paper, Uncle Tom wrote 
this letter to his nephew; 

Dear Dick: 

Who perpetrated that thing? You need me to take the 
conceit out of you, and I^m going to come down next week 
with your aunts and see what the Academy looks like. 

Uncle Tom. 


Aunt Hester and Aunt Jennie wrote too, 
but their letters were fat enough and enthusi- 
astic enough to burst their envelopes. Dur- 
ing the latter part of Annual Exam Week, all 
three folks’^ arrived, and as Dick had no 
examinations to worry him, he was free to 
show them all the sights of the Academy. He 
told them the story of the Herndon Monu- 
ment and Lovers’ Lane, showed them the 
draped coflSn of John Paul Jones, and ex- 
patiated on the figureheads of the Constitu- 
tion in a way that would have qualified him, 
in Zim’s words, ‘‘to conduct a rubber-neck 
wagon.” In fact, Dick had carefully 


303 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

crammed the guide book before his family 
arrived. 

As soon as Zim was free, he turned to, as 
well, on the entertaining committee; and 
though he had no guide book information to 
spout on cannon and monuments, he made 
such a hit with uncle and aunts that his 
chum finally told him to clear out and not 
rob the lone nephew of the affection that be- 
longed to him. 

Early the following week came the Mas- 
queraders’ entertainment, and of course all 
hands to whom Zim was the entire show were 
there. Nor did he fail Dick’s topnotch ex- 
pectations. Zim was not only the hit of the 
evening, but he so completely outclassed all 
the rest of the performers that the enthusi- 
astic audience refused to let him go without 
many encores. He appeared in several char- 
acters, first as a discipline officer, then as a 
French professor, again as a head of depart- 
ment, and lastly, as a mess-boy, with appro- 
priate monologues for each part and a take- 
304 


JUNE WEEK 


off of a definite personage that the middies 
conld recognize in each case. He wound up 
with a topical song, which Dick had helped 
him write, and which proved a howling hit. 

Dick was so proud of his friend’s success 
that he nearly burst with pent-up admiration 
as he sat and watched him from the front 
row of the gallery. And the two aunts told 
each other earnestly that Dicky’s friend, Mr. 
Zimmerman, was certainly ‘^very gifted.” 
As for Uncle Tom, he nearly laughed his 
head off before Zim finally left the stage. 

Friday of June Week brought graduation. 

It is a custom at the graduation exercises 
which are held in the Armory, for the first 
class, who are seated, and the rest of the 
brigade, who stand at parade rest behind, to 
applaud each man as he goes up to get his 
diploma from the Secretary of the Navy — 
or whoever the dignitary happens to be. The 
amount of applause shows to the audience 
the popularity of the man. When Dick 
learned this, he began to worry about what 

305 


PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


treatment Douglas would be likely to get 
from bis classmates, and be took advantage 
of Bootbby’s spooning on bim to ask bim 
kindly if be’d ^‘see to it that tbe Ebino 
gets a good band. He’s been a migbty 
good friend to me,” pleaded Dick, ^‘and 
bis mother’s coming all tbe way from 
Tennessee!” 

‘‘Well, Pewee,” answered tbe first class- 
man with great dignity, “you are tbe ratiest, 
cheekiest, freshest upstart of a Plebe I ever 
saw. Tbe idea of your telling tbe first class 
bow to behave! Beat it before I annihilate 
you!” 

Dick “beat it” as directed, but he knew 
from tbe way “Bug” made bis high-sounding 
remarks that be was not angry at all. When 
graduation morning arrived and Douglas, 
who was one of the “star” men — standing 
almost at tbe very bead of bis class— was 
called up to receive bis diploma and tbe band- 
some sword awarded for “excellence in gun- 
nery,” be received such a round of applause 

306 


JUNE 5VEEK 


that he was completely taken aback. Were 
these the same fellows that had put him in 
Coventry? He flushed with surprise and 
pleasure, and scarcely heard the nice little 
complimentary speech the Secretary of the 
Navy made him when he handed him the 
sword. As he turned he saw a little figure 
in rusty black sitting in the front row of the 
audience, wiping away tears of joy and pride. 
Then he smiled with appreciation and a 
quiver of his own eyes as he looked back 
into the brigade, where a delighted little 
Plebe in the rear rank was still whacking 
his hands together for all he was worth. 

That night came the June Ball, the crown- 
ing festival of Graduation Week. Uncle Tom 
gave a dinner at Carvel Hall before the hop, 
and it was a wonderful success. This, too, 
in spite of the fact that every tradition of 
‘‘rates’^ was violated by the fact that Ehino 
Douglas, looking happy as a bridegroom, 
and in all the glory of his new uniform, was 
there with his mother, hobnobbing with four 
307 


“ PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 

Plebes — at least, four who had been Plebes 
up to that morning — and seemingly enjoying 
it. These four were Wentworth, who, the 
ladies declared afterwards, had the most 
charming manners they ever saw, Miller, 
Zim, and, of course, the Pewee. It might 
have been a hard combination to swing had 
it not been for the irrepressible Zim, who, 
fresh from his triumph in the Masquerader 
Show of a few days ago, was in his most rol- 
licking vein, and told the most wonderful 
string of stories that kept the table in a gale 
of laughter — and for that matter everybody 
at the neighboring tables who was near 
enough to hear. 

After dinner all hands followed the crowds 
going down to the Armory. Douglas had 
never gone to the hops during his four years 
at the Academy because he said that it was 
silly for a grown man to spend a whole even- 
ing shuflBing over a floor. But this time he 
raised no objection whatever. Dick wanted 
to go because it was the first hop at which 

308 


0 


JUNE WEEK 


the erstwhile Plehes were allowed on the 
floor, and he wanted to enjoy the new privi- 
lege, while Wentworth and Zim, who were 
great ‘‘fussers,’* were eager to dance the 
evening through. 

But neither of them, dancing with the pret- 
tiest girls as they were, was enjoying himself 
a hit more than Dick, standing alongside the 
gawky Miller among the ‘‘stags” and just 
looking on. 

“This is a fine old world,” he said to 
himself, “and no fellow ever had a finer 
hunch of friends. I wouldnT be anywhere 
else in the world than right here and right 
now in this Academy!” 

Then he thought, with a leap in his heart, 
of the summer cruise that would begin on the 
morrow. The ships were going to the Azores, 
to Gibraltar, Marseilles, and to London. 
He’d have a chance to see some of the most 
interesting parts of the old world, travelling 
on a Dreadnaught, and dressed in the uni- 
form of the United States Navy! 


309 


« PEWEE ” CLINTON, PLEBE 


‘‘By George, what don’t I owe Uncle Tom 
for getting me that appointment to the Acad- 
emy and making me work to pass the 
exams!” 

At this thought he left the floor and went 
up into the crowded gallery to find the 
“folks.” Next to them he found Douglas 
and his mother. The Ehino was looking 
thoughtfully and with unseeing eyes upon the 
whirling crowd of dancers below. The three 
ladies were having a delightful time together, 
commenting on the gowns of the girls and 
admiring Wentworth’s faultless dancing and 
handsome appearance. 

“Wow, it’s hot in here!” muttered Uncle 
Tom. “Hester, Jenny, I’m going out on the 
terrace. Come on, Dick!” 

The two strolled out on the terrace and sat 
on the wall, looking at the path of moonlight 
that shimmered across the bay. 

“Dick, you’re taller than when you left 
home,” observed the older man. 

“Two inches, sir,” answered Dick proudly. 

310 


JUNE WEEK 


‘^And a hangsight better in the chest and 
shoulders,” commented the other approv- 
ingly. 

^‘That^s due to Douglas, sir.” 

“And you have grown in other ways, as 
I hoped you would, thanks to Douglas and 
Zimmerman ’ ’ 

“And Uncle Tom,” added Dick. 

“So that,” he chuckled, not heeding the 
interruption, “if you keep on, the time may 
come when you won’t be a ‘Pewee’ in any 
sense of the word.” 



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RAY’S DAUGHTER. 

Illustrated. $1.25 per volume. 

TRIALS OF A STAFF OFFICER. 

KITTY’S CONQUEST. 

STARLIGHT RANCH, AND OTHER STORIES. 

TWO SOLDIERS, AND DUNRAVEN RANCH. 

A SOLDIER’S SECRET, AND AN ARMY PORTIA. 
CAPTAIN CLOSE, AND SERGEANT CROESUS. 
Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $z.oo per volume. 

LARAMIE. WARING’S PERIL. 

A TROOPER GALAHAD. 

$1.00 per volume. 

FOES IN AMBUSH. 

Cloth, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. 

TROOPER ROSS, AND SIGNAL BUTTE. 

FROM SCHOOL TO BATTLE-FIELD. 

Illustrated. $x.oo per volume. 

(Edited by) 

THE COLONEL’S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 

AN INITIAL EXPERIENCE. AND OTHER STORIES. 
CAPTAIN DREAMS, AND OTHER STORIES. 

Cloth, 75 cents; paper, 50 cents. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 















OCT 23 1912 




